by Eve Gaddy
Her lips were parted and her breath was coming harder but still she didn’t stop him. “We shouldn’t,” she said. “But you’re making it hard for me to remember why.”
“Kiss me, Maggie. Don’t analyze, don’t think. Just kiss me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She kissed like a fantasy. And she tasted like a dream. Sweet, with a hot, sexy taste beneath it.
Instead of devouring her as he was tempted to do, he let his tongue search her mouth, explore it, thrust and withdraw until her tongue answered his in a deep, stirring, sensual kiss. Long moments later, he raised his head and smiled at her.
Her mouth curved upward, too. “I’m not sure I care if this is a mistake.”
“It’s not. Trust me, it’s not.” She was warm and giving and he marveled that a woman as strong and capable as he knew Maggie to be could also be so soft and inviting.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he pushed up her tank and stroked bare skin. Her skin was like silk. He kissed her again, walking her backward until her knees hit the couch, then followed her down. He stopped kissing her long enough to push up her tank and draw it off over her head.
For a long moment he simply gazed at her, dry-mouthed.
“You’re just as beautiful as I’ve imagined.” Her breasts were full and lush, with tight coral tips that just begged to be kissed. He intended to give them a very thorough inspection. He touched his tongue to a peak, licked it, then very slowly, sucked it into his mouth.
Maggie moaned and put her hands in his hair. “Oh, that feels so good…don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, taking her other breast in his mouth. He sucked her nipple, tongued it. She leaned back against his arm, completely bare from the waist up, and Tucker drew in his breath in rapt appreciation. Smooth, creamy white skin, gorgeous breasts, her red hair spilling over her shoulders inviting him to do things he’d been fantasizing about for weeks, for months.
“Incredible,” he said, and went to work again. Soon, she squirmed against him, arching her back to push her breasts into his mouth. He suckled first one, then the other, drawing the tight peaks into his mouth and tormenting them both, using his fingers on the one his mouth had just left.
She moaned again when he slipped his hand down to her shorts and slid his fingers between her legs to touch her through the skimpy fabric.
“Tucker…” She said his name on a sigh as he skimmed his fingers over her again. She was damp with anticipation and it took all of his willpower not to strip those shorts off that instant and plunge inside her.
“Let’s get rid of these.” He started to tug her shorts down but Maggie put her hand on his wrist.
“Uh-uh,” she said huskily. “First you have to lose the shirt.”
“You do it,” he told her.
She sat up a little and reached for the buttons, keeping her eyes on his as she opened them one by one. When she reached the waistband of his pants, she tugged the shirt free. Then she pushed the shirt down his arms and looked at him. She put her hands on him, slid them over his chest and nipples, then raised her eyes to meet his. The smile that curved her mouth was pure sin.
Her eyes had changed color and were now almost turquoise as she concentrated on him, stroking his chest with a light, deft touch. His nipples tightened and she moved closer and kissed his neck, then nipped it. Tucker groaned.
He cupped her and she moaned and pushed herself against his hand. She lay down on the couch and he followed, ending up between silky thighs. He rocked against her and she tightened her arms and legs around him. Nuzzling her neck, he asked, “Why are we on the couch when we have a nice, comfortable bed we could be in?”
“Because,” she said as she ran her hands down his back to his butt and pulled him against her again. “I’m still not sure we should be doing this.”
“I have to tell you, you’re not acting like you’re thinking this is a mistake.”
She sighed. “You’re right, I’m not.”
He kissed her mouth again, slowly, then drew back and smiled at her. “Have I told you recently that you’re beautiful?”
She laughed, the sound a sexy ripple, before her expression grew solemn. “I want you, Tucker. Inside me.”
A cell phone rang. He glanced at the coffee table. “That’s yours. Don’t answer it.”
She looked undecided. “It might be important.”
“So is this.”
“Tucker, I have to answer it.”
Reluctantly, he moved off her and she sat up and reached for the phone, grabbing for her tank with her other hand and holding it against her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, then picked up the phone and flipped it open.
“Hello.” She paused and said, “Yes, this is Officer Barnes.” She paused then said, “Sara? Sara Myers?”
He watched her change from disheveled, about-to-be-thoroughly loved woman to pure cop in an instant.
“No, don’t do that. It’s too dangerous. Keep that door locked and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t open the door, Sara, until you hear me or another officer. I’m on my way now.”
She shut the cell phone with a snap, and yanked her tank top over her head and down to cover her breasts. “Shit, I knew this was going to happen. Tucker, I have to go.” She jumped up and headed for the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” He followed her, watching as she rifled through her closet for her uniform and then scrambled into it.
“Remember that domestic disturbance I was called to the day I found Grace? The last time I pulled you over? I left the woman my number. I don’t always, but I had a feeling about her.
“I was right. She just called. Husband’s out of control again. She’s had to lock herself in her bedroom to get away from him. He’s already broken her nose. Now he’s threatened to break every bone in her body if she doesn’t let him in.”
“Are you going to call for backup? You’re not even working. You’re on a leave of absence still. Maybe someone else should take the call.” He wished she wouldn’t go at all, but he knew she would.
“No, she’s mine. She trusted me and she called me. Besides, I told you, I’m a cop. I’m always on duty. I’ll call the station on the way.” She strapped on her belt and added the gun. “With any luck I’ll be able to arrest the bastard this time around. Last time she wouldn’t let us press charges. Denied he ever touched her.”
He walked with her into the kitchen. “Call me and let me know you’re okay,” he told her. Maybe he was overreacting but he had a bad feeling about this situation.
She smiled as she shrugged into her jacket. “Don’t worry, Tucker. I do this kind of thing all the time.”
He knew she did. That didn’t mean he had to like it. “Just be careful.”
“Always.” She paused a moment before she left. “Tucker, about tonight…I’m sorry.”
A moment later she was gone. And Tucker was alone with only a sleeping baby and a nagging fear for Maggie for company.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MAGGIE AND A FELLOW officer named Ben Fairfield arrived at the apartment building at almost the same time. Ben had only been with the ACPD for a few months but Maggie had worked with him before and liked him.
“Glad you made it,” Maggie told him.
Nodding, he said, “I thought you were on leave.”
“I was. I am, but the victim called me and said she was locked in the bedroom with her husband threatening to break every bone in her body. Said he’s already broken her nose, so he might just mean it.”
Ben nodded again. “Apartment 3-D, you say.”
“That’s right. Third floor.”
“Is he armed?”
“I don’t know.” Maggie glanced at the building with a worried frown. “She didn’t say he had a gun, but that doesn’t mean anything. She was scared out of her mind and might not have thought to mention it.”
“One way to find out,” Ben said. “Let’s go.”
A few minutes later Maggi
e pounded on the door. “Police, open up.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I think he may have killed her this time.”
Maggie turned around to see a woman peering out of the apartment across the hall. “Why do you say that?”
“There was a lot of noise, hollering and cursing. Then it got quiet before starting again, even worse. He was throwing things around, from the sound of it. I think maybe she was one of the things he threw.” She nodded, her face grim. “There was a huge crash and since then, nothing.”
“Did you hear any gunshots?” Ben asked the woman.
“No, but I know he keeps a gun. Sara told me one time she was afraid the children would find it.” She paused and added, “I called the police before on this man but you’ve never done anything.”
Maggie stifled a pang of regret. I tried, she thought, but it hadn’t been good enough. “Thanks for your help,” she said and waited until the woman closed her door before pounding on Sara’s again. “Aransas City Police Department. Open the door.” She tried the knob, but it was locked.
Still no answer. She and Ben exchanged a glance. She took out her weapon and so did he. At her nod, he kicked in the door and entered the apartment with Maggie right behind him.
The place was a shambles, with broken dishes everywhere and a good bit of the furniture broken, as well. Apparently, he’d put one of the chairs through the TV screen. There was no sign of any people. The doors to both bedrooms were shut and there was an ominous silence. “Police,” she called out.
Maggie pointed at the door of what she knew from her previous visit was the master bedroom. She and Ben flanked it on either side. “Sara, can you hear me? Are you all right?”
A bullet came through the door and buried itself in the wall across the hall. They heard a wild laugh, then a man said, “She won’t answer. The bitch got what she deserved.”
Maggie’s heart sank. Although she hadn’t relished a standoff, at least that would have meant Sara had a chance. She nodded at Ben, for him to try again before they went in. Maybe the man was lying. Maybe—
“Sara Myers, are you all right?”
Another bullet through the door was their only answer. Ben counted to three with his fingers in the air and on three Maggie turned the knob and pushed the door open. Seconds later several shots rang out, though they all went wild and didn’t hit either of them.
“Police! Put down your weapon,” Ben shouted.
“That’ll be a cold day in hell. Come and take it,” the man invited. “That bitch won’t be calling the cops no more.”
Maggie went in low and Ben high, both of them aiming for the place they’d last heard the man’s voice. Several shots sounded and Maggie jerked back, feeling a searing pain in her arm. “Shit, he hit me.”
Ben didn’t answer but she couldn’t look at him until she made sure the shooter was taken care of. He’d been hit, that much was obvious, and he lay slumped over. Holding her gun on him, she walked over to him and checked his pulse. “Dead.” A small arsenal of handguns surrounded him, yet by some miracle, they’d taken him out before he took them. She turned and looked for her partner, who lay on the floor, bleeding. “Damn it, you’re hurt! Why didn’t you say something? How did he hit both of us?” She rushed over to him.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he said, grimacing. “He got my shoulder, but I don’t think it’s bad.”
“No, I don’t, either,” Maggie said, inspecting it. She keyed in her radio. “Officer down! Officer needs assistance!” Then she went into the bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels, wadding one up to hold over Ben’s wound.
He was hurt more than he let on because he allowed her to staunch the blood without arguing, which was totally unlike the man she’d worked with before. “You’re bleeding, too,” he said, a little faintly.
“It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll survive.” And so would Ben, she thought, looking him over critically.
“Who do you think got him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you.” She glanced around and caught sight of the very still form of Sara Myers, lying beside the dresser.
“Go to her,” Ben said, brushing her hands aside to hold the towel. “I’m all right.”
She was sure they were too late but she went to her, anyway. Sara looked…broken. She searched for a pulse but couldn’t find it. She closed her eyes, hung her head and sucked in a breath. She looked at Ben. “She’s dead. No gunshot wound. I think her neck’s broken.”
“Bastard probably did it when he threw her,” Ben said. “You’re bleeding like a stuck pig,” he added. “Better put some pressure on that.”
Maggie didn’t argue. At least she was alive, unlike poor Sara Myers.
“We were too late. I wonder when he did it. If I’d gotten here faster…” She shook her head, then sat on the floor before she fell down.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Ben advised.
She just shook her head, gazing at the dead woman.
“Maggie, don’t take it so hard. We did the best we could.”
“Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t good enough.” She’d failed, just as she’d failed weeks earlier to talk Sara into going to a shelter. And now Sara Myers was dead. There would be no chances of a new life for her.
THE HOUSE WAS QUIET when she returned, much later. She hoped Tucker had gone to sleep. After she left the hospital, where the doctors had assured them Ben would recover fully, she went to the station and called to tell him she was all right, but that she’d be a while and for him not to wait up. She hadn’t told him about being shot or that her partner had been shot, as well. She figured she’d better tell him that in person. She wasn’t too sure of his reaction, but she didn’t think it would be good.
After putting her weapon and belt away, she checked on Grace but the baby was sleeping peacefully. So sweet, so peaceful, she thought, stifling the urge to pick her up and cuddle her for comfort. Instead she left her and went back to the den.
Going straight to the bar, she found a bottle of whiskey and picked up a glass. She splashed some liquor in it and tossed it back, shuddering as it burned its way down. Maggie didn’t drink a lot, but she knew why so many cops did. Tonight was one of those nights when she could easily have crawled inside a bottle. She wouldn’t, but she sure as hell intended to have a drink. Or two or three.
Her arm throbbed and she wondered if she’d been stupid not to take the prescription pain meds she’d been offered. Probably, but she’d decided to make do with over-the-counter pills and have a drink instead.
“I listened to the police scanner,” Tucker said from the doorway. “I heard them say officer down. They didn’t even have to specify, I knew it was you.”
“It wasn’t me. It was my partner.” She gripped the glass tighter and downed another swallow. “He’s going to be okay, though.” Keeping her injured arm turned away from him, she glanced at him. “You shouldn’t listen to the scanner. Especially if I’m gone.”
“Right, that’s going to happen. Looks like you had a rough night.”
“Yeah.” She laughed without humor and took another sip of whiskey. “It totally blew wide out.”
He walked over to her, picked up the bottle and poured her some more. “Come sit down.” He started to take her by the arm, then frowned, obviously noticing the bandage on her other arm for the first time. “I thought you said your partner was shot. What happened to your arm?” He rubbed her bare skin below the bandage gently. “You were shot, too, weren’t you? Goddamn it, Maggie, you’ve been shot! Why didn’t you tell me when you called?”
Maggie cursed herself. It looked worse than it was, she knew. They’d had to cut off her shirtsleeve to put a bandage the size of Aransas Bay on her arm.
“It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound.”
“Nothing? You were shot. That’s a long way from nothing. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I’d have come to the hospital with you.”
“And what would you have done with Grace? Besides, I didn’t tell you b
ecause I didn’t want you to freak out like you’re doing now.” She let him lead her to the couch and sat down.
“I’m not freaking out. But, yes, it upsets me to know that my wife has been shot and didn’t bother to tell me.” He sat beside her.
“I’m sorry.” She set her glass down and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I thought it would be better to tell you in person. Maybe I was wrong, I don’t know.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She gazed at him before she began. He had that implacable look on his face. He wouldn’t be put off this time, she knew. Besides, she wanted to talk to him. He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of thin sweats that he must have pulled on when he heard her come in. He looked warm and strong and infinitely comforting. Tears stung her eyes and she resolutely fought them back. Suck it up, she told herself. You’re tough, you’re a cop. Pull it together. She took another drink before she started.
“He was holed up in the apartment with a small arsenal, but we didn’t know that. We weren’t even sure he was armed. Neighbor heard a lot of commotion, then nothing. We called out to the victim but she didn’t answer.” She skipped over the part about all the shooting, figuring the less Tucker heard about that the better. “We believe she was dead by the time we got there. The son of a bitch she was married to broke her neck. He threw her into the dresser. Like…like she was nothing.”
Tucker put his hand over hers and squeezed comfortingly. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to walk into that kind of a situation.”
She shrugged, then winced at the jolt of pain. “At least I’m alive. Sara Myers is dead. And it’s my fault.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TUCKER STARED AT HER. She was serious. “Maggie, it’s foolish to blame yourself for this.” She didn’t say anything. He didn’t think she’d even heard him, she was so caught up in her grief and guilt. “What happened to him? Is he in jail? I’m assuming he’s the one who shot you and your partner.”
