by Vanessa Vale
I sat up, ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, trying to get her mind on the here and now. “You’re safe.”
“But Erin—”
“I know. It’s my job to find out what happened to her.”
She nodded, turned to look at me. “Okay.”
“It’s my job to take care of you.”
I meant it.
“That’s right, Kitty Kat,” Donovan said. His hand stroked her bare back. We were both touching her, both letting her know we were right here with her. “You’re not alone anymore.”
She dropped down onto my chest, tucked her face into my shoulder. “Hold me.”
Fuck, yes. I wrapped my arms around her, cupped her head with the back of my hand, cupped her ass with the other, keeping her as close to me as possible.
She breathed, and I felt her relax into my hold. But then she shifted so my cock was right at her entrance. Fuck, the heat of her on the tip made my balls ache. She was wet, too, coating me.
“Please, Nix.” She moved in my hold, pushing herself down on me. Who was I to deny a woman who needed my dick?
I groaned and let my hands roam as she settled on me so I filled her completely. “Kit,” I groaned, then somehow remembered. “Condom.”
“I’m on the pill. I want… need nothing between us.” She tipped her chin up, looked at me in the darkness. “Make me forget.”
That was all it took. I settled my hands on her hips, helped her lift and lower as I thrust up and into her. The feel of her, bare, had me close to coming and she’d barely moved. She was so hot, so wet. The feel of taking her with no latex barrier… the sweetest thing in the world. She sat up, put her hands on my chest, began to ride me. Her head fell back, her long hair tickling my thighs.
Donovan shifted so he could reach her, cupped and played with her breasts as she found her pleasure in me. Forgot everything but the feel of being possessed. Protected.
Of not being alone.
“This is happening so fast,” she said as she circled her hips.
“Fast?” I replied. Sweat dotted my brow. “Kit, this between the three of us, it’s been happening for years. It’s just intense. It’s never been like this before. Ever.”
She stilled, my cock buried deep as she looked down at me. At Donovan. “I know.”
“We’ll always be here for you,” he said, tugging on her nipple. That made her forget everything and ride me like the most perfect cowgirl until she came all over my cock. Until I filled her with my cum. Yeah, there was no going back now. She was fucking mine.
KIT
* * *
I stirred when Donovan kissed my forehead. I smiled, snuggled into the covers and opened my eyes.
“Hi,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I wanted to say goodbye.”
Lifting the blanket over my mouth, I said, “Don’t get close. I have awful morning breath.”
He grinned. “Nothing about you is awful.”
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t lower the blanket.
“I have to get to the office.”
I looked to the other side of the bed—empty—and then back at Donovan. “Where’s Nix?” I breathed in the scent of coffee and Donovan’s spicy aftershave. Definitely something I could get used to.
“He left early. You were out cold.”
“You guys wore me out.”
They had. I was relaxed in a way only several orgasms could achieve. I was also a little sore. To say they were vigorous and thorough lovers was an understatement. And two men? My body totally got worked. I was also exhausted. The nightmare hadn’t helped at all.
He grinned, stepped back. “If I don’t get out of here, I’ll be getting back in bed with you.”
Yes, please.
“I’ve got to go to my apartment, shower and get ready for work.”
It was then I noticed he was in the clothes from the night before. I’d assumed—until last night—that Donovan and Nix lived together.
“Your car’s in the driveway. We went and picked it up from your office.”
“You went and got it for me?”
He shrugged. “Figured you’d need it.”
Everything came back in a rush and my smile slipped. The good feelings slid away. How could I have forgotten?
Erin was dead.
I pushed myself up in bed, leaned against the pillows and the headboard, tugged the sheet up so I was well-covered. Murdered friends and sexy times didn’t go together.
My eyes felt gritty with lack of sleep and I rubbed them. I needed coffee and soon. “I’ll call Nix and find out when he wants me to give my statement.”
“He told me to tell you nine.”
I glanced at the bedside clock. Seven forty-five. “Sure.”
“Be careful.”
I remembered Erin’s bloody body. “Should I be worried?”
He sighed. “The murderer’s out there.”
I didn’t need that reminder.
“You have no idea how fiercely protective I am of you, but this situation is a mess. We finally get you… here”—he tugged gently at the sheet—“and Nix is off trying to get your name off the suspect list.”
“He’s worried about his job? How being with me will affect him?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“And you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Kitty Kat.” He didn’t say more on the subject. “We can’t call you since your phone records are being checked. While I’m not ashamed of us, I don’t need to screw up the investigation. I’ll get in touch with you later.”
With a wink, he was gone.
Screw up the investigation.
I had nothing to do with Erin’s murder, but I was tangled in it. Being with Nix and Donovan could screw not just with the investigation, but with their jobs. Fucking a suspect probably wasn’t a good idea. If I were cleared, then was us being together okay? I didn’t know the nuances of the law, but I knew they were the ones putting their careers on the line. Not me. I had no career.
I climbed from the bed, my earlier happiness about being in Nix’s bed pretty much gone. Alone, reality returned.
I found my overnight bag on the vanity in the bathroom. I showered, using the soap and shampoo that smelled like Nix, and pulled myself together. Nix had packed me jeans and two shirts, sandals, toothbrush and hairbrush. He’d included no makeup or hair products, so while clothed, I’d certainly be casual.
As for underwear, he’d found the sexiest and skimpiest silk panties and matching bra. Knowing how Nix felt about me, about what he liked to do to me, it only made my pussy clench in eagerness for him.
After making Nix’s bed, I sat at his kitchen table as I worked on my first cup of coffee—someone had left a full pot for me—and called Eddie Nickel. He answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mr. Nickel, this is Kit Lancaster.” I tried to sound bright and cheerful.
“Kit! You caught me on a break between shoots.”
He sounded very upbeat for first thing in the morning. I was finishing my first hit of caffeine, but it sounded like he was on his fifth.
“Eddie, remember? No one calls me Mr. Nickel.”
He was casual. Far too casual for my liking, but I had a feeling that was the way of Hollywood stars. Everyone knew him, therefore everyone was a friend. In his forties, he hadn’t quite hit over-the-hill status in films. For men, they didn’t age, they matured. He was handsome, incredibly so. He knew it. Women flocked to him which gave him the validation he clearly craved. I’d never fawned over him. He wasn’t my type. Erin was—had been—friends with his daughter, Poppy. We’d all gone to school together.
I liked Poppy. As for Shane, he was a year ahead in school, but our paths didn’t cross that much. They were both really nice and well-adjusted considering their father’s ego and his being off shooting a movie more than he’d been at home, but I learned early enough to be jaded about rich parents. Money could buy pretty much anything, except love. Parents who actually gave a shit.
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br /> “Right.” I stirred my coffee with a spoon, even though it didn’t need it. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news.”
“A detective notified me yesterday morning. Awful.”
My mind flashed to finding Erin dead on her floor. I paused, swallowed, pulled myself together.
“Obviously, we missed our meeting with you,” I plowed on. “I know your movie will go on even with what happened to Erin.”
“Yes, we have a deadline to wrap up shooting here in Cutthroat in three weeks.”
“Right, that’s why I was calling. Did you want to meet later today to talk end-of-shoot party?”
“Kit, Kit, Kit.” His voice sounded as if he were scolding. “We can’t work with you now. I mean, there’d be bad press. The movie’s event planner was murdered. That’s what the tabloids would latch on to, not the movie itself.”
I set my elbow on the table, rested my forehead in my hand. “But—”
“You’ve done great work, but my assistant has found someone else.”
He had no clue what kind of work we’d done. It had been all behind the scenes tasks, planning a venue, caterers, band, for the party. He was full of shit. And he wasn’t going to change his mind. I knew his kind. Rich, self-centered, thoughtless. I felt sorry for Poppy.
“I hope they find out what happened to Erin. Good kid.”
He hung up. Good kid?
I groaned. Loud. Stood. Paced. Tried to rip my hair out.
Eddie Nickel’s production company had been Mills Moments’ biggest client. Our biggest money-maker that would have lasted almost a year in events and projects for the movie they were shooting now. We’d hoped they’d use us for future work as well. This work was why I’d returned to Cutthroat.
Now? Only one other client remained, a baby shower scheduled for next month. I looked up the hostess’s number, introduced myself when she answered. “I’ve got the invitations ready to go to the post office.”
“You can just drop them off, Kit, and I can take over.”
My stomach dropped and tears clogged my throat. I took a second, tried to keep my voice even. “Are you sure? That’s our job.”
“Our?” she replied. “Your partner’s dead… murdered and you’re carrying on as if it never happened.”
I shook my head but she couldn’t see it. “No, no, it’s not like that. Erin would want to ensure her clients’ needs are being met, that their events go smoothly.”
“They are,” she snapped. “Leave the box of invitations on my front porch. You’ve been paid for work to date.”
She, too, hung up without saying goodbye.
Mills Moments was officially out of clients. Out of business.
I had no trust fund. No rich parents. I needed to make money. So much for my dream job. My mind turned to the diner, where I’d worked all through high school and college. I’d made decent tips. Would they take me back?
I glanced at the clock on the stove, stood. I had to get to the police station for my statement. The only positive was that I’d see Nix.
7
KIT
* * *
“You said on the 9-1-1 call that Erin was dead.”
Detective Miranski sat at the table across from me. She was in her early thirties, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. White dress shirt with a simple turquoise necklace. While I couldn’t see beneath the table, she was wearing jeans and sturdy leather boots. She was pretty, but understated. Kind, since she’d introduced herself with a smile when I’d first arrived, but very thorough.
I had to guess Nix had asked her to do the interview, perhaps for impartiality, I wasn’t sure.
She wasn’t Nix’s partner, but they were the two police detectives in Cutthroat County, assigned to different cases. Erin’s murder was a big deal, and probably Mr. and Mrs. Mills had put the pressure on the department to find the killer. Detective Miranski seemed competent and put together, making me second guess what Nix saw in me. Why wasn’t Nix into her? Smart, pretty. Employed. Probably had an alibi for Saturday night. I, on the other hand, was out of a job, currently homeless, living out of a travel bag and a murder suspect.
The interview room was just like on TV. White walls, industrial carpet on the floor. A metal table with four chairs. A one-way mirror.
I glanced up at Nix, who stood in the corner, leaning casually against the wall. He looked incredible in jeans and a dark blue golf shirt with the police department logo embroidered on the chest. I wanted to run my hands all over him, but folded them in my lap. Besides stating his name and job title for the video recording an hour ago, he hadn’t said anything else. Barely moved.
I tried to block him out, for if I didn’t, I’d think about how I knew exactly what he looked like beneath his shirt, that I’d pawed and licked every inch of those rock-hard abs. And other rock-hard places on his body.
“I guess I did. I was a little freaked.”
“But you touched her. If you knew she was dead, why did you touch her?”
I frowned. “When I saw her lying there, my first instinct was to go to her and help. Wouldn’t you do that?”
She didn’t say anything, just waited.
“Her eyes were open,” I continued, blinking back tears. “Staring. Her color was awful. God, I had no idea people turned that pale. I didn’t want her to be dead.”
I ran my hands up and down my arms. It wasn’t cold in the room, but there was a huge air vent in the ceiling and it had a ridiculously strong breeze for such a small space.
“You didn’t hear anything.”
I took a deep breath, let it out. Sniffed. “I told you this already. No. I didn’t hear anything.”
“How is that possible?”
Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. Her house is big. My bedroom was on the first floor in the back. The kitchen, the laundry room and an exercise room are between my room and where she was found. I didn’t usually hear her come in at night, and if she had someone with her, I wouldn’t know. Unless they were shouting.”
“Had that happened before? Erin shouting with someone?”
I thought back. “Loud voices one night. She’d brought a guy home. After a minute or two, they went up to her bedroom and then it was quiet. I fell back asleep. I met him the next morning in the kitchen. She’d said they’d been drunk.”
“What’s the man’s name?”
“Kurt something. He was in my Econ class at the community college, but that was a few years ago.”
“You said you were working a wedding at the Red Barn.” The detective looked at her papers. “What time did you get home?”
“Around eleven thirty. On the way home, I stopped at the gas station on South Fourth to get my mom her lottery ticket.”
“Is this something you usually do?”
Nodding, I said, “Yes. My mother is agoraphobic. She hasn’t left her house in years. She hopes to hit the mega millions, although because she doesn’t leave the house, it’s not like she’ll buy a boat or something.” I sighed. “Anyway, yes. I’ve been getting her a ticket every day, even when I lived in Billings.”
She wrote something on her papers, then looked up at me. “How long have you been back in town?”
“Five weeks.”
“Anyone else in particular?”
“She mentioned a few guys. Shane Nickel.”
Her eyes widened. “Eddie Nickel’s son?”
“Eddie grew up in Cutthroat,” Nix told the detective. “His kids grew up here. I went to school with Shane.”
“Okay, so Shane Nickel,” Detective Miranski repeated.
“I don’t know much about it because I think she kept me out of the loop.”
I remembered her saying they’d been hanging out. I wasn’t sure if that meant they’d slept together or if they’d gone bowling. With Erin, I had no idea. I just knew it had been casual since he hadn’t been the only guy.
She arched a dark brow. “Why’s that? You worked together, were even roommates.”
I bit my lip
. The list—and the short time frame—made Erin out to be kind of slutty. I didn’t care what Erin did with guys. I was a little envious of her boldness, of her ability to put herself out there, but I always wondered if she were lonely. In the time I’d been back in Cutthroat, Erin and I hadn’t been all that close. We’d worked together, but she went out every night. Partied. We hadn’t done our nails together while watching movies. Nothing girlfriends did. It was clear, even though I had been staying in her house, we’d drifted apart while I’d been gone.
“Because I was gone for a year, maybe. She’s always been more extroverted than me. Loved to go out. Have fun. Before I left, I worked too hard to date much. She was, well, gorgeous and could have any guy she wanted. Definitely out of my league.”
Nix moved then, crossed his arms.
She offered a small smile, like girlfriend to girlfriend and pushed a notepad to me. “Here, you said she mentioned some guys. Write the names down.”
I scribbled down the few names I knew. One or two I remembered from high school, but hadn’t seen much of them after graduation. And not since I’d been back.
“Since you didn’t hear an argument, or anything else the other night, she must have known her assailant.”
I stared at the detective, then at Nix for a moment. “I have no idea.”
“You lived in Billings for the past year?”
I nodded.
“Why did you leave Cutthroat in the first place?”
I didn’t dare look at Nix. “I took a job at a hotel there in their events department.” It wasn’t a lie, just not all of the truth.
“Right, Erin’s company is Mills Moments,” she said, picking up her pen and making a notation on the pad in front of her. She glanced up at me with her piercing green eyes. “Did you and Erin always want to do event planning?”
“I did. I like to be organized.” An understatement considering my mother. Nix knew about her. Most people I went to school with knew about her. It wasn’t a secret, but I wasn’t going to share my mother’s anxiety and hoarding to the detective. It had no impact on the case.
“You came back because Erin offered you a job.”
