A Stitch on Time 5
Page 16
I took careful steps up the stairs and paused long enough to glance at the door with my name on it, before heading to the top floor. The large corridor window still had cracks on the surface which extended along the wall to match the ones inside my office. My demon-possessed ex had caused them, but I wasn’t going there either.
Not now, not ever.
When I hit Papan’s floor, I let my heels clack along the wooden floor loud enough to echo my approach. I took my time, drawing out the stimulation. Papan never failed to get my blood pumping, but this surprise was making me antsy.
I stopped in front of his office door—which happened to be directly above mine—and knocked twice.
“It’s open!” he hollered from the other side.
My spine tingled at the deep sound of his voice. I pushed the door open and stepped inside his office. The blinds behind his desk were open, welcoming the overcast day. I closed the door and stood there while assessing his barebones office. He had a desk, two visitor chairs, a low bookshelf and several filing cabinets. Some of his furniture had been replaced after he was attacked by a werewolf hunter, other pieces were scuffed.
“I won’t be a sec.” Papan was busy writing something down in his notebook, and took a few seconds to look up. As soon as he did, the pen slid from his fingers, his jaw dropped and he sat up straighter. His green eyes twinkled and darkened with lust. “What have we here?” He seemed to regain his composure long enough to give me his best teasing grin. “Can I help you?”
I cleared my throat, never losing eye contact. “Yes,” I said. I wasn’t much of a performer, but I was going to play this out. “I think you’re the only one who can, but I need to make sure.”
“In that case, why don’t you sit on my lap and state your business?” He winked and it made my stomach flutter.
He’s good at this.
I took a deep breath, not wanting to screw up the corny lines I’d practiced all morning. “I hear you’re the best private dick in town, and that’s just what I need.” I found it hard to keep the smile off my face, so I tried to turn it into a sexy grin. Not sure if it was working, I stepped farther into the office.
“I’ve got just what you need, down here.” Papan pointed towards his crotch.
When he made a move to stand, I shook my head. “No, don’t.” I took my time to reach him, running my fingertips over the edge of his desk on the way over.
“Okay, what do you need me to do?” He seemed to be enjoying this, which made my skin burn.
I stood before his chair, gazing into his mossy green eyes. A quick glance at his lap confirmed he definitely liked the show. “I need you to sit back and enjoy the ride.” I pushed a hand against his chest until he leaned into the leather chair.
“I’m already enjoying it.”
I pulled the fedora off and whipped him with my hair. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” I placed the hat on his head and undid the waist belt on my trench coat. “You do the rest.”
Papan unfastened the coat buttons in record time and spread the fabric. He sucked in a sharp breath and I felt weak at the knees. “Ah, yeah. This is definitely what I’ve fantasized about, for years.” His fingers dipped past the fabric and grazed my waist, but I stepped back.
“No, not yet,” I said. “You can’t unwrap your present yet.”
“Why not?” His jaw was clenched, hard. As though he was already struggling for control.
“Because I’ve got something to do first,” I said, keeping my eyes on his as I kneeled and unzipped his jeans to release his erection. “I have to make sure you’re the right guy for what I need.” I was already running my fingers up and down the length of him, enjoying how hard he felt and how he reacted when I touched him. Leaning closer, I sucked him into my mouth, teasing the tip with my tongue. He murmured as I kept a nice pace, tugging and sucking at just the right intervals until a growl reverberated through him and he bucked his hips.
“Fox…”
I didn’t stop, and instead sucked him deeper.
“Foxy, you’re leading me down the path of no return.”
I slowly pulled back until he slid out, but kept a hand tightly wrapped around his girth as I stood and pulled the square packet from my coat pocket. I tore it open and glided the condom over his erection, taking my sweet time.
“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “This is even better than my fantasy.”
I couldn’t help but smirk as I tugged him some more, watching his eyes flash amber.
“If you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what?” I tugged him harder, daring him.
He gritted his teeth, but I leaned in for a kiss. He cupped my face, pushing his tongue into my mouth, taking my breath away. His erection slid from my grasp as I stepped between his legs.
Papan pushed the fabric of the trench coat aside enough to make it slide down my shoulders, and wrapped his hands around my waist. “You smell so good.” His mouth was suddenly everywhere—on my belly, my breasts, and even dipped between my thighs—and the fedora slid off his head. “And taste so much better.”
I stopped him, because this was all about him. I leaned even closer, my breasts skimming his chest. “So, can we close this deal?” I nibbled on his earlobe. “Because I’m sure you’re the right man for the job.”
He didn’t respond, instead propped me up until my knees were pressed against either side of him. He pushed my hips down and I was so ready that he slid inside. He raised and lowered me onto his lap, so I could feel every inch of him fill and leave me with excruciating precision. I’d been wet and ready to go since this morning, but now I was close to the breaking point.
I ran my tongue down the side of his neck before returning to his mouth.
Papan tensed his fingers around my hips and pumped inside so fast every sensation made me wish this would never end. The mounting friction rubbing against my most sensitive spot, and the feel of his every thrust made my breath catch. I came with a fervor that tore a scream from my throat a split second before he climaxed.
My scream and his growl blended together, echoing around the office.
“Happy Birthday, Papan.” When I looked at him, not only were his eyes glowing amber but his nose had transformed into a snout. He shook his head and was back to being Papan.
“You’ve set the birthday bar really high, you know that?”
“Whoa,” I whispered, running my fingers over his brow. “Did you just partly shift?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
I pressed my forehead against his. “It didn’t scare me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He didn’t say anything, but kissed my lips lightly. “Shit, maybe. I was so worked up…”
I ran my hands over his blond hair, so grateful that we’d gotten to do this. Only a few days ago, I’d been sure he would never wake up from a coma.
“Sierra, I love you so much.” He pushed a strand of my hair away from my face.
“I love you too, Jason.”
“This was the best birthday surprise I’ve ever gotten.” His heart beat against mine. “I want to make you scream like that every single day of our fucking lives together.”
“And I hope that’s not the only time I make you growl like that.”
We sat in each other’s arms for several quiet minutes.
“Ready for round two?”
A lopsided grin curved the edges of his mouth. “I’m curious, what’s the second round involve?”
I leaned into his ear. “Me, bent over the desk and you—” A loud noise from downstairs interrupted my flow. “Did you hear that?”
“Sounds like someone entering the building,” he said. “But tell me more. Is there a round three?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s when we head downstairs to my office.” It was
time to replace the bad-tasting memory of office sex with my ex, and replace it with the right one.
“I like the sounds of both rounds.” Papan nibbled my bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to bend you over my desk for a while.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like your head’s full of sexual fantasies.”
“Oh yeah, and you’re always the star of the show.” His nibbling moved to one of my nipples and I couldn’t wait to get started.
I was about to stand when the door was thrown open so hard the glass panel shattered against the wall.
“What the fuck?” Papan slid the coat over my shoulders.
We both turned as a handful of men with drawn weapons rushed into his office.
“Jason Papan, you pathetic hack!” shouted the gruff leader of the pack. “I’m here to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
It took me several seconds to identify Detective Shapiro standing in the doorway with his partner Burns, and two uniform cops flanking him.
I stuck my arms deeper into the sleeves of my coat and secured the belt clumsily.
“What are you on about, Shapiro?”
“Don’t play stupid, because it’s not going to save you this time.” Shapiro scoffed and took another step into the office. He was a short, stocky man with messy, balding dark hair. A scowl darkened his features and he looked like he hadn’t shaved for weeks. He might even be wearing the same baggy jeans and white button-down shirt he had on the afternoon I’d first met him in a back street. This detective seemed unkempt and hardened by his years on the force.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Papan said with a shake of his head.
We were still on the chair, and straddling him felt wrong while these inconsiderate jerks interrupted what was supposed to be a memorable moment.
Shapiro’s demeanor changed when his focus shifted to me. “Ah, what have we here? The freak is putting on a show, huh? I would’ve thought the cemetery was better suited for your tricks.” He crossed his arms and waited. “Please, don’t let us stop you. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
A growl echoed inside Papan and I pressed a hand to his shoulder, urging him to stay calm. The last time this detective provoked him, he’d come very close to losing control, and I was sure that’s exactly what Shapiro wanted.
One of the uniforms said, “Sir, we should step outside to give them a minute.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Shapiro didn’t budge.
“But sir—”
“I’m not letting these weirdos out of my sight.”
I stood, making sure nothing was showing while Papan discreetly cleared away the evidence of what we’d done and zipped his jeans. Luckily, the desk was wide enough to conceal and keep our modesty intact. I couldn’t believe the timing. Actually, what the hell were they doing here? Shapiro mentioned something about Papan being under arrest, but he hadn’t said why.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice shakier than I’d intended. I stood my ground behind the desk. I preferred to keep them at a distance until we found out exactly what was going on.
“We’re here for Papan,” Shapiro spat. “He’s under arrest.”
“What? You can’t be serious.” This couldn’t be happening. “Why?”
“For murder.”
I shook my head. “No way, that’s not possible.”
“Listen here, freak, in my line of work I’ve grown to accept that anything is possible. So why don’t you move your slutty little frame away from the loser before I arrest you as well. Whatever was going on here smells a lot like solicitation.” He leered at me, while leaning over the desk. “I think I might take great pleasure in frisking you to make sure you’re not hiding something illegal, like palm cards or a spirit board.”
The way he looked me up and down made me want to puke.
“I have a license for all those things.” In a world where Ouija boards were illegal, he should know someone like me would have the right to own them. The average person might not but as a spook catcher, I did.
“I’d still be interested in frisking you.”
Papan leaped off the chair so fast it tipped over with a loud thump. When he vaulted over the desk—papers, manila files and pens went with it. Before anyone could stop him, he’d wrapped his right hand around Shapiro’s throat and shoved him hard against the wall. He stepped in close and said, “You pathetic piece of shit. Don’t you ever speak to her like that again!”
Even from where I stood, I could see the shimmer of amber in Papan’s glare as he raised his nose in the air. Whatever Papan scented made his frown deepen.
The detective didn’t lose composure as he said, “Put me down before I add assault of a police officer to your list of offences.”
The other detective snuck up behind Papan.
“If you touch me, Burns, I’ll make sure the paramedics are the only ones who can get him breathing again.”
Detective Burns stopped his advance. “Take it easy. We’re just doing our jobs.”
Papan snorted. “You barged into my office with a ridiculous accusation. How is that doing your job?”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Shapiro mumbled. His face was turning red.
“Put him down,” Burns said, calmly. The other two cops didn’t move and were still crowding the doorway.
Papan tightened his hold on Shapiro and I knew that if he didn’t stop soon, we were going to be in a hell of a lot more trouble.
“Let him go, Papan. He’s not worth it,” I said. “He wants you to make a mistake.” This was the same thing I’d said to him last time, and it worked then. Hopefully, it would be enough to get through to him now.
Burns had his gun pointed at Papan’s back. “Listen to her.”
“Don’t let him get the better of you.” I wanted to diffuse the situation.
Papan held Shapiro for several more beats before stepping away. His breathing was labored and sweat dripped from the tips of his dark blond hair. When he peered over his shoulder and met my eyes, I could read just how close he’d come to completely losing his shit. His eyes flashed amber, then green, before turning amber again.
“Don’t let him get to you,” I whispered.
Papan blinked several times before his gaze flicked back to green. He extended a hand, reaching for mine.
Before I could take it, Burns grabbed Papan’s wrist and was about to restrain him when Shapiro yelled, “No! The pleasure of shackling him should be mine.” He gave me a disgusted glare before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. He turned to grab Papan’s arm and yanked the left behind his back. “Cuff the girl. We’ll deal with her at the station.”
“Leave her out of whatever the fuck this is.”
“Papan, it’s okay.” I wasn’t thrilled at the thought of being handcuffed and dragged away in a police car under bogus charges, but what else could we do? “Who did he supposedly kill?”
The hatred in Shapiro’s scowl almost made me recoil, but when your own parents couldn’t look you in the eye without glowering, you get used to it.
“Hurry up and restrain her, I’m getting sick of hearing her fucking voice.”
Burns approached me and as he reached for my arm, one of the windows behind Papan’s desk exploded. I barely dodged the incoming colorful sphere. It barreled into Burns, slamming against his shoulder and sending him to the floor.
“What the fuck was that?” he said with a grunt.
Shapiro only had one cuff on Papan and as he rushed to secure the other, a second sphere flew in through the other window. This one smacked the determined detective square in the back, so hard he lost his grip on Papan and stumbled to his knees.
One of the uniforms rushed to Shapiro’s aid, helping him stand as Papan backed away. Shapiro protested with every step, but the young police officer wouldn’t release his chubby arm an
d maneuvered him out the door. The other cop stood near Burns as he struggled to stand.
“You might as well get him out of here,” I said to the young cop. Mainly because I knew what was hovering inside the office.
The constable hesitated only a few moments before assisting Burns to his feet. “We need to arrest these two,” Burns kept saying.
“As soon as I get you safely downstairs, Preach and I will come back for them.”
“No—”
“Just get out of here before it’s too late!” I yelled. These cops had no idea what we were dealing with, but I did. Orbs—ectoplasms—were dangerous spooks, and these were already shrinking in size. The last time I’d seen that happen, there’d been an otherworldly explosion.
A third orb sailed through the shattered windows. The three spheres hovered in midair as if waiting further instructions.
“Hurry up!” I yelled. “Get out.”
The uniformed officer rushed Burns out the door.
I pointed at the colorful balls of contained energy—different shades of blue, green and even red. “Papan, we need to leave too.” I backtracked, trying to close the distance so I was next to him. We didn’t want to be around these things for long.
“Are those orbs?” He stepped closer to the door, reaching for me.
I grabbed his hand, keen to leave together. “Yes, and if we don’t get out now—”
“Fox, watch out!”
I was too slow to react and something smacked into my right hand. I lowered it to my side, watching strands of pink energy, instead of blood, leak out of me. This wasn’t another orb—it was clearly a wraith in the form of someone I recognized instantly, and she was already glistening orange. Once a spook became this wild and violent, they attacked and fed off the chaos they caused. The mounting energy was triggered when she touched my hand, which meant someone had organized this attack.
I’d confronted plenty of these spooks in the field, but only met one other in this condition—Professor Spooker. He’d been strapped to an obscene spirit-splitting chair he’d designed himself, and was lost in the ghostly patch when he bit me and caused my energy to bleed.