Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 1 - 4

by Lisa Renee Jones

  But he could see the intent in her eyes. She was in control. Palms on his chest again, she moved so that her eyes met his. “I can’t believe you are here.” It was a husky whisper.

  Everything about her, about the moment, was so damn sexy, he could hardly keep from ripping off her clothes and burying himself inside her. He was glad the curtains were open, so he had the night light to see her by. He’d have hated to miss the gorgeous sight she made. Her hair was a wild, blonde mass of silk flowing over her shoulders, her eyes glossy with passion and emotion, her lips swollen from his kisses.

  “How could you think I wouldn’t come for you?” he asked, his voice alive with his desire, low and a bit rough.

  “Why’d you come?”

  He had the feeling this was a test. Mark wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the real truth about his feelings for her … but deep down he thought she knew. He reached up and wrapped a silky strand of her hair around his finger. “Are you sure you want an answer to that question?”

  Her lips trembled, confusion flashing in her eyes. “What I want,” she said softly, “is to forget everything but you tonight. I want you, Mark.” She traced his jaw with her fingers and then flattened the softness of her open palm on his cheek.

  Mark absorbed her words, her touch, and her every move like liquid fire in his veins. To hear Lindsey openly admit she wanted him felt more than right. Maybe because he felt it as an admission beyond physical need. “I want you too, baby. You have no idea how completely crazy you make me.” His hands went to her hips, and then her perfect, round ass, caressing, and molding her even tighter against his hips.

  She began unbuttoning his shirt, her hands moving impatiently to the bare skin. He wanted to kiss her, but she seemed intent on her task. Taking control from Lindsey was not something he wanted to do. Okay, so maybe he did, but he wouldn’t.

  “God, I love your body,” she told him as her hands and mouth moved across the taut, rippling muscles now exposed.

  Shoving aside the shirt, her tongue flicked his nipple. The impact was white lightning in his blood. He sucked in a breath, struggling to remain still and allow her to lead. “You like?” she asked, her fingernails lightly scraping both of his nipples at once.

  His eyes fixed on hers. “Your hands and mouth on my body?” he asked. “The only thing better is my hands and mouth on yours.”

  And that was the end of his restraint. He had to kiss her. His fingers entwined in her hair, as he pulled her mouth to his, hungrily kissing her, tasting her as if she was sweet nectar, perfect and addictive. He couldn’t get enough of her flavor, her mouth, her smell. Ah, her smell … soft, floral, and something more primal. There was something addictive about her, something that set him on fire, and made him burn with a need so intense, so potent, it consumed.

  “Ah, Lindsey, you are amazing. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.” He murmured the words against her lips even as his hands moved to cup her breast.

  She made a little sound of pleasure and her hands began a slow slide up and down his thighs. Her fingers spread, moving so close to his groin, he almost came undone. And just when he thought she would continue to tease him, she cupped his erection. She nipped at his bottom lip, even as her fingers stroked and teased.

  With no warning she stepped backwards, out of his reach. He looked at her, his eyes full of questions. She gave him a seductive smile in return. Slowly, she unzipped her dress and then let it slide to the floor, stepping out of it and kicking it to the side.

  Mark’s eyes slid down her curvy, delicate body, taking in the provocative sight she made. Very small, very sheer black lace was all that covered her rosy, pebbled nipples. The panties were nothing but a swatch of lace that teased him with its perfect placement. His body was throbbing, hard with his desire. He couldn’t remember ever having such a potent reaction to a visual. A woman’s body turned him on, no doubt, but Lindsey downright made him burn.

  “Come here,” he ordered hoarsely, his hand raised towards her.

  She slid into his arms, no hesitation, as if she too, could wait no longer. He buried his face in her hair, soaking in her fragrance and how amazing she felt in his arms. As much as his body raged, he had a sudden need to savor the feel of holding her.

  He found her mouth, needing to taste her. His lips brushed hers, and he could have sworn hers trembled. Once, twice, three times he tasted those full, sweet things, before his tongue slid along hers in a long stroke. A slow, perfect kiss, he took his time, making love to her with his mouth. But as she moaned, her hands roaming his body, he grew more urgent, unable to hold back.

  And then he was devouring her mouth with his, tasting her like a starving man would food. Even as he lost himself to the moment, to Lindsey, his mind registered the uniqueness of his need. Never before had he wanted so completely, in such an all-consuming way.

  Lindsey was on fire, burning with sensations that only Mark could make her feel. Her need for him scared her yet made her feel whole in a way she wasn’t certain she had ever felt in her entire life. She wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel. She wanted to make love to him. Sinking to her knees, she quickly found the hard ripples of his stomach and began laying soft butterfly kisses on his warm skin. As her mouth distracted him, her hands worked to unbutton and unzip his pants.

  Reaching for his belt hoops, she dipped her tongue into his belly button as she slid his pants down his legs, freeing his erection. Lindsay’s eyes widened, her mouth going dry. How she didn’t know, but she had forgotten how big he was, and just how perfect.

  Mark stared down at her, and she could see the question in his eyes. Intentionally, she teased him, leaning down, and unlacing his shoes. She could almost feel the tension in his body. He wanted to tell her to leave his shoes alone. A hidden smile on her face, she finished her task, enjoying the tease as she drew it out.

  She tugged at one of his shoes and pulled it off his foot, throwing it across the room. Then the other. Her hands slid around his calves, greedily explored his muscular legs. Mark dropped his head against the door, his palms flattening against the wooden surface. She loved what that meant … that he had caved to submission.

  Her hands moved to his waist, to the elastic of his boxers. That got his attention. He raised his head, giving her a heavy-lidded stare. “Can I,” she asked, wanting his clothes gone.

  Mark groaned. “You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart.”

  She smiled, and then pulled his pants down, making sure his underwear came too. Her hand closed around his erection as she pushed to her feet. He moaned, and she smiled. She loved the power she had over him. Seeing this gorgeous, always-in-control man at her mercy was the ultimate high.

  They stared at one another, her hand so intimately touching him, stroking him. “I want—”

  He cut her words off with his actions, his hands going into her hair, his mouth claiming hers. Their bodies pressed together, his erection nestled between her thighs. It was a slow, sexy kiss that had them clinging to one another, their tongues caressing and loving.

  He palmed her breasts, kneading with delicate, perfect pressure. She was falling into a sensual haze. Her bra fell loose around her body. She never even knew he unhooked it. And his hands were on her bare breasts, fingers rolling and pinching her nipples. His hands moved to her butt, and he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him, wanting him.

  He sat her on the edge of the mattress, dropping to his knees in front of her. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, a gravely quality to his voice.

  She slid her hands to the side of his face. “You’re gorgeous.” And she meant it. He was perfect.

  “Ah, Lindsey,” he whispered, emotion in his voice.

  She pressed her lips to his forehead, to his temple, to his cheek. He moved so that his mouth found hers, kissing her, tasting her. His mouth moved down her jaw, her neck, and then to her breast. Inch by inch he kissed, touched, and teased until his
mouth closed over her nipple.

  Hands in his hair, she arched into the sensation, her body burning with the feel of his lips, teeth, and tongue. “I want you, Mark.”

  “I want you too, baby,” he said, but his teasing continued, his mouth nipping, licking, tasting until she thought she would die from pleasure.

  And then he stood, urging her to her back, and then raising one of her legs. He kissed her ankle, her calf, her inner thigh, his lips and teeth making her squirm with heat. And when he was oh-so-close to her panties he switched legs and started all over. This time when he reached the lace, his mouth moved over it, the heat of his breath burning through the lace.

  His hands went to her hips, and he leaned back to pull her panties off. The final barrier gone. His hands settled on her waist, moving her higher on the bed as he settled above her. His erection slid along her core, sending a rush of desire through her body.

  His mouth covered hers, his tongue sliding along hers, even as he eased his body inside hers. Purposely slow, he inched his way to her core until their bodies were molded as one.

  For long moments, they kissed, her breasts pressed into his chest, her hips one with his, hands exploring each other. It was as if she was having an out-of-body experience. Every touch was like sensual gold, awakening another nerve ending, making her need on a new level.

  Together, as if they had the need at the same time, they began a slow rhythm, slow strokes, in and out, back and forth. She sighed into his mouth, moaned, whispered his name. His fingers touched her nipples, her lips, her hips.

  With each touch, she wanted to be closer to him. Wanted more. And somehow, together once again, they became more urgent. Stroke by stroke, they pressed their bodies together with more power, more force. They kissed as if they were thirsting for the very breath of the other. As if they had to have the other to survive.

  It was a powerful, amazing feeling that had her moving with him in a way she had never experienced. This wasn’t sex. This was something more. Something as potent as a flame flaring to great heights, burning out of control.

  Consuming.

  And suddenly, the moment of ultimate pleasure was near. She fought it, not wanting to tumble over into satisfaction. Then this would be over. No. She didn’t want it to be over. This was too good to end.

  But it was too late. Her body was not her own. She shattered, tensing as the first spasm of orgasm took hold. So intense was her release, she could only call his name in her head. And as her body closed around his, she heard him moan and say her name. And then he shattered, hips pressing into hers, face buried in her neck.

  Moments later, they lay pressed together, limp with the impact of their releases. Reality slipped into place, hitting Lindsey with a rush of emotion. The magnitude of what they had shared was so powerful, it was hard to digest.

  Never, ever, had she felt so totally possessed and pleased by a man. The burn of tears in the back of her eyes took her off guard. A wave of panic took hold. Was she falling in love? She didn’t want to be in love. That meant giving up too much. She’d worked hard to find herself. She didn’t want to get lost again.

  Turning her face to the side, she tried to hide her tears. Mark kissed her temple and rolled to her side, giving her an opportunity to escape his scrutiny. She sat up, feeling a second rush of emotions, taking a deep breath, willing the tears to go away. But a flood was coming, and she couldn’t stop it.

  There was no way to hide her sobs from Mark.

  Mark’s arms closed around her from behind. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asked in a tender voice full of concern that only made her cry harder.

  Wiping at her face, she tried to gain control. “No, nothing like that. I’m sorry. I swear I’m not like this.”

  Mark stroked her hair. “I know, and that’s what’s got me the most worried.”

  “I’m,” she sniffed, “fine.”

  Mark tugged her into his lap and then moved to rest his back against the headboard. Lindsey gave into the need for more tears and buried her face in his neck and let them roll. So potent was her release, it was as if years of tears had somehow been released. All she could do was cling to Mark, and let them flow.

  And he was wonderful, whispering comforting words, and rocking her.

  Long minutes later, she accepted a tissue from Mark, feeling calmer, but her eyes hurt and she was exhausted.

  “Do you want to talk?” Mark asked, his hand running down the back of her hair.

  “I guess a lot things hit me at once,” she explained. “It’s been a pretty emotional month.”

  Mark knew there was more to it and he needed to understand. “What was it about our making love that made it all cave in?”

  Lindsey ran her hand through his hair. “You scare the hell out of me.”

  He knew that, but he didn’t see any reason to say so. Instead, he wanted to understand her feelings fully. “Why?”

  “Well,” she said in a shaky voice, “I think I’m beginning to get used to having you around.”

  Mark studied her. “And that’s bad because … ?”

  “Because every time I have ever gotten involved with a man, I’ve felt like the relationship took over my identity. I can’t do that again.” She shook her head and shut her eyes. “I can’t.”

  He brushed his lips across hers. “I’m crazy about you. I like your independence, and even how hard-headed you are.” He smiled. “I don’t want you to change. I just want to enjoy who you really are.”

  She blinked. “You make it seem so simple.”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think it’s simple at all. The truth is⎯I’m scared too.” She looked at him with surprise. “I wasn’t looking for this anymore than you.”

  Lindsey seemed to digest his words with acceptance. “Thanks, Mark.”

  His eyes narrowed. “For what?”

  “For understanding. For not pushing me.” She blew out a breath. “For being you.”

  Mark pulled her close, his chin resting on her head. “Don’t thank me,” he told her. “Just don’t stop being you.” He kissed her head. “All I want is a chance to see where we are going.” He pulled back, and looked at her. “Is that fair?”

  She smiled. “I’d like that too.”

  Mark laid down, pulling her into his arms, hoping this was one of many nights he fell asleep holding her.

  *

  It was dark, and she was alone. Fear laced her thoughts, made her hands sweat, and her body shake. The shadows danced menacingly around the room, a flash by the window⎯a shadow that moved. Oh my God … a man. It was the outline of a man, and she shoved aside her blankets, frantically kicking them away with her feet as she reached for her gun. But she couldn’t find it.

  Where was her gun? She grabbed her purse, feeling frantic, dumping the contents on the bed, searching.

  Then suddenly, Mark was there, climbing through the window, going after the shadow of a man. Lindsey panicked and dug harder for her gun, reaching in drawers, under pillows. Giving up, she flung her purse to the ground and ran towards the window, not bothering with a robe. She had to get to Mark.

  The window was open and she crawled through, desperation taking hold as she screamed Mark’s name. But he was nowhere in sight. She moved to the fire escape, taking each step with urgency until she jumped into the alley. Still she couldn’t see him. She started running as fast as she could, needing to catch up to him. Her breathing was harsh, labored, and tears were streaming down her face. Where was he? Where was Mark?

  *

  “Lindsey.” She heard her name but she didn’t see anyone. “Lindsey, baby, wake up.” Her eyes fluttered. “Lindsey, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

  She jerked straight up into a sitting position, her skin damp, and she was wheezing, needing air. Her eyes went to his face. “Mark?”

  She felt his arms wrap around her. “Yeah, I’m right here, baby.”

  Reality started to return with the sound of his voice. She turned and touc
hed his face, his chest, and his shoulders, needing to know he was here. He was real. A deep sigh of relief escaped her lips. “Oh, God. You’re here. You’re okay.”

  Mark grabbed one of her hands and pressed his lips against her palm. “I’m right here. Everything is fine now.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Lay down with me,” he urged gently. Slowly he lowered them both against the sheets. Sinking into his hold, she allowed the safety of his arms to soothe her mind, slowly feeling her breathing return back to normal. After a few minutes, she leaned up and kissed his cheek, so very thankful he was okay, so very appreciative for his comfort.

  She wasn’t alone.

  “Want to talk about it?” Mark asked, his hand smoothing her hair.

  Lindsey rested her head on his shoulder. This time the nightmare had been more vivid, more frightening. And yes, she did want to talk, to tell Mark about it. “I keep having this same nightmare, over and over.”

  “You were screaming my name. Why?” he asked, his hand now drawing circles on her arm.

  She strained, trying to force her mind to recreate her nightmare. Mark had been there, in the middle of the dread, but not a part of the darkness. “There’s always a stranger trying to get to me, and then you’re there, and I am trying to get to you.”

  Mark felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Was this some sort of premonition? They hadn’t known each other long. “When did they start?”

  Lindsey’s thoughts raced. “I’m not sure. I think before I met you. But then, how can that be? You’re in them.”

  “Maybe you had them before and now that I’m around, I became a part of them.” It seemed logical enough.

  She sighed. “Maybe.”

  “Rest, baby,” he said kissing her head. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  She snuggled closer to him, one of her legs entwining with his. Damn, she felt good in his arms. Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep. He lay there, holding her, his mind on everything from the nightmare to the murders. Lindsey made him feel protective from the first moment he met her. With each passing moment, the feeling grew more intense. Her nightmare felt like some kind of premonition. The very thought had him silently cursing himself. Hell, now he was sounding like Lindsey, with all of her instinct and gut-reaction crap. Besides, her nightmares were probably a product of her struggles with the past. Lindsey had torn herself up over Hudson for years.