by Virna DePaul
Obviously, she’d made her choice. Playing the submissive wasn’t in the cards for her today. So Jase tamped down on his very strong desire to flip her on her back and show her exactly what he could do with his mouth, too. It had nothing to do with competition but rather with wanting to give her so much pleasure that she couldn’t help coming back for more. And more and more. Until not a day went past that they didn’t touch each other and pleasure each other with a mind-blowing intensity despite the darkness of their jobs.
She increased the suction, and her tongue lingered against a particularly sensitive spot on the bottom of his shaft, causing him to hiss and punch his hips upward. She peered up at him, her gaze hot and intense, filled with satisfaction at the pleasure she was giving him.
“I’m supposed to be pleasing you,” he gritted out, not exactly in protest but to communicate he hadn’t forgotten.
She swirled her tongue around the head of him, then straightened and moved over his thighs, straddling him and rubbing her wet core against him. “You are. This is pleasing me. This is what I want. No strings attached, right?”
He folded his hands behind his head in order to stop himself from reaching out to her, then thought, what the hell. Just because she was on top didn’t mean that he had to be completely passive. While she slid a condom on him, he cupped her breasts then circled his palms against her pointed nipples. She moaned and closed her eyes, arching forward for more of his touch. Unable to resist, he craned his neck up and sucked a nipple into his mouth. She tasted damn delicious, so he stayed there for some time. Sucking. Licking. Nibbling. Then moved on to the other nipple as she cradled his head in her hands. He was so immersed in what he was doing that he barely noticed that she’d shifted.
He shouted and fell back as she took him to the hilt. His fingers clasped her hips and flexed, struggling not to immediately lift her up and slam her back down. This was her ride, he reminded himself. Her show. Whatever she wanted for her own pleasure, not for his. But he knew they were one and the same. Anything that pleased her would inevitably please him, as well.
She stayed still for several minutes while he throbbed inside her. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in concentration, as if she was trying to absorb every flutter of sensation she was feeling. Finally, without opening her eyes, she began to move. She lifted herself up, slowly, until he almost slipped out of her altogether. Then, with a desperate whimper and a bite of her lip, she sank down on him again, slowly again, so slowly. She repeated the torturous, motions several times, until Jase was clawing at the bedsheets and grinding his teeth to keep from begging her to take him harder. Faster.
She was so glorious. Beautiful. Powerful.
And he happily relinquished himself to that power. His time would come later. At least, he hoped and prayed she’d trust him enough to give him that.
For a second, the memory of their conversation came to him, including her confession that she’d been raped. He felt the punch of anger again. Regret. He wished he could take every ounce of pain she’d suffered and make it disappear as if it had never happened, yet he knew her past had formed who she was today.
A sexy, amazing woman who didn’t realize the joy she brought others.
The joy she brought him.
As if she read his mind, her eyes flew open and locked with his. Jase sucked in a breath at all the pleasure and delight he saw reflected in their blue depths. Her hips began to retreat and return with more speed and more force than before, shooting sensation up his legs and down his spine to gather inside the flesh that was so happily buried inside her. Even as she embraced the pleasure, Jase felt a moment’s hesitation.
Hell, what was he thinking? Sex with Carrie was something he’d wanted for a long time, but did he honestly think her place was with him? Not just here in bed, for the here and now, but forever? Hadn’t he always told himself that he couldn’t handle that, being with a woman as strong-willed and passionate as Carrie, one who would constantly challenge him?
That’s what he told himself, he acknowledged, but with her on top of him, with him inside her, with the memory of how well they’d worked together and fought together these past few days, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever considered Carrie challenging him for the rest of his life a bad thing.
It could only give him pleasure. As much pleasure as she was giving him now. Even more, so long as he knew she was truly his for the rest of their lives.
Her thrusting hips picked up speed right along with their breaths. Her palms were flattened on his chest, her fingers brushing his nipples as her hips shuttled back and forth over him. In and out. Hot and hotter. Wet and wetter. Everything taking on more intensity and more vibrancy the longer she moved. Until each individual sensation began to tangle with the other, winding itself into a bigger and bigger mass that soon became too huge for their bodies to contain.
Jase doubted he’d ever felt this much pleasure before. And as Carrie began to moan and shudder with the strength of her climax, he knew the same was true for her.
* * *
ALL CARRIE’S FOCUS had been on the feel of Jase’s body inside hers and the ecstatic expression on his face as she’d ridden him. From those things alone, she’d derived more pleasure than she ever had. That’s why, when her body suddenly exploded with pulses of intense pleasure that just kept building and building, it took her a second to realize she was actually having an orgasm.
And Jase had hardly done a thing. He’d held himself beneath her, allowed her to take the lead and except for when he’d suckled her breasts, he hadn’t even touched her. And yet here she was having the most intense climax of her life.
And the longest.
It kept going and going, giving no signs of waning. His hips pulsed against hers, and she realized he was somehow keeping the sensations going, proving to her that he wasn’t passive at all but guiding her toward the ultimate pleasure with ease.
“Jase. No more,” she finally gasped when the feelings became too intense. He immediately stilled and caressed her back while she came down from the heights to which he’d flung her. As she did, however, she realized that while she’d climaxed, he hadn’t. He was still thick and hard inside her, and holding himself ruthlessly still.
Did he think he was going to give her amazing pleasure and take none for himself?
She wasn’t about to let that happen.
She clenched her internal muscles around him. Surprise flickered across his face an instant before he groaned. Planting her palms on his chest to steady herself, she began to move. Slowly but surely. Easing him out of her body a fraction of a time before pushing him back inside. His hands found her hips, guiding her, increasing her speed until the sound of their flesh meeting echoed like a drum. Jase kept his gaze on hers, refusing to look away, letting her see every second of pleasure she was giving him. When those beautiful eyes of his finally shut, she knew he was close. She dragged his hands to her breasts and whispered, “Now, Jase. Come for me.”
The hands that gently cupped her were a sharp contrast to the frantic movements of their hips and the grimace of pleasure-pain on his face. With a final, urgent thrust of his hips, Jase exploded. He shouted out his release, gloriously uninhibited and so sexy she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
It took him a few seconds to open his eyes. When he did, he pushed back her damp hair and smiled. His satisfied expression sent a sharp echo of the joy she’d experienced zinging through her.
“Kiss me,” he said.
Instinctively, she wasn’t even sure why, she shook her head. She’d kissed him before. Had enjoyed it. Why wouldn’t she kiss him now? But something about the painfully full feeling in her chest told her that if she kissed him, it would be too strong an intimacy and would cause her protective shell to explode, leaving every part of her vulnerable and bare. She trusted him, but that didn’t matter. She’d never shown anyone all of herself. She never would.
But apparently Jase wasn’t happy with that plan.
Wit
h his eyes narrowing, he suddenly flipped her over. The next thing she knew, she was pinned underneath him, with her wrists bracketed in one of his hands and held over her head. He was still inside her, his hips resting heavily within the cradle of her splayed thighs.
“Kiss me,” he ordered again. “Now.”
She trembled at the dominance in his voice and was certain he didn’t miss her reaction. She forced herself to lift a brow. “Or?”
He leaned down until his nose touched hers. “Or I’ll make you come again, and I won’t ease off this time no matter how much you beg.”
She couldn’t help herself. She smiled tauntingly at him. “Really? Considering I already came and that was a major feat in and of itself, I’d say you have a pretty tough job in front of you.”
He smiled a fierce smile that had her shivering with nerves. “That’s what I was hoping you would say.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRAD STARED AT THE BOXES littering the small apartment he rented. It was a ridiculous way to live, and the twin mattress on the floor wasn’t exactly luxury accommodations. But it wasn’t as if he’d had a lot of options in the matter.
It had taken all the money he’d been able to scrape together to move to San Francisco, but he’d truly believed it would be worth it. After all, he had family here. Plus, he’d been picked on his whole life. He wasn’t going to let Dr. Odell Bowers get away with what he’d done.
Deceiving Brad. Lying to him. Bilking him of all his money.
And that didn’t even take into account all the physical pain Brad had suffered over the years. Because of him.
That, more than anything, required payback.
The question was, knowing what he now knew, what type of payment was Brad going to extract?
Money was always good, and the good doctor had more than enough of that to go around.
A little suffering would be nice, too, of course. Very nice. For once, Brad wouldn’t be the worm writhing on the hook, someone else would.
And then there was always good old-fashioned gloating. If there was one thing Dr. Bowers had more than his fair share of, it was pride. He thought he was so damn superior. So smart.
Yet Brad had put all the pieces of the puzzle together within minutes.
Bowers had been his doctor for years. His sole task: to rid Brad of the port-wine stain that had plagued him his entire life. The damn doctor actually thought he’d been successful, when Brad knew the difference. At first, Brad had thought he’d been the crazy one, seeing a deformity when it was no longer there. But then he’d heard someone talking in McGill’s Bar. Someone talking about the serial killer who cut the eyelids from his victims.
Brad had immediately thought of Dr. Odell Bowers and the various horror movies they’d discussed over the years. Bowers’s favorite had been a movie about a killer who cut the eyelids off his victims. It had been a detail too unique to ignore.
Of course, he’d figured it was a weird coincidence. It certainly didn’t prove Bowers was a killer. Not by itself. Then Brad had overheard two other details. That the killer performed some type of “beautifying” procedure on his victims afterward. And that the killer had started his work in Fresno before moving on to San Francisco.
Bowers had moved his practice from Fresno to San Francisco.
And Bowers was a doctor who helped improve the looks of his clients. At least, that’s what he was supposed to do.
Brad might be hideously ugly, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how to put two and two together, and this case, two and two equaled Bowers.
It was Bowers who was crazy, not him.
Bowers who saw a scar that was gone, when it really wasn’t.
And in the end, although he hadn’t done the job the way he was supposed to, Bowers would still be the one to help Brad rid himself of his deformity. Because it had been Bowers who’d motivated Brad to approach Kelly Sorenson. And then to kill her.
Now Brad had all the information and the power he needed. With it, he would not only get everything he’d ever wanted, he’d get more than he’d ever imagined was possible.
And whatever form of payment Brad extracted from Odell Bowers, one thing was certain.
Brad was going to make sure he witnessed, acknowledged and spread the news that it was Brad who had the power now. Then Brad would find his next victim.
No, not his next victim, he thought. His next donor.
The word victim implied Brad was taking something he had no right to. That wasn’t the case. Did the lion victimize the gazelle?
No, the gazelle had its place in the world. Its place was to feed the lion.
Just as Brad’s donors had their place.
To give Brad the power and beauty they were too weak to keep for themselves.
To give him the means to have Nora.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WHEN JASE WOKE IN the morning, he wasn’t surprised to find himself alone in his big bed. He didn’t bother calling out Carrie’s name, either. She wasn’t in the house. He suspected she’d hightailed it out a while ago and was now in full-on denial mode.
The question was whether he was going to let her stay in it.
Truth be told, after their explosive night together, he was feeling shell-shocked enough to think that some denial could be a very good thing. He’d known bedding Carrie would be a momentous experience, but he couldn’t have known just how earth-shattering it would be. Once again, thoughts of a future with her kept intruding, and it was enough to scare the shit out of him.
Though he wasn’t the player everyone, including Carrie, thought he was, he definitely valued his freedom and had always savored the variety of women he dated and bedded. In addition, he truly appreciated the benefits of simplicity when he was off the job. Sure, he’d enjoyed the past few days he’d spent with Carrie, and that included their circling and sparring, but he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just a fluke and that Carrie’s combative nature wouldn’t grow tiresome as more and more time passed.
He had to tread very carefully here, not just for himself, but for Carrie, too.
Though Carrie hadn’t let him completely inside her emotional walls, and certainly hadn’t declared her undying love for him or demanded any kind of commitment, the fact that she’d slept with him wasn’t something that he could take lightly, either. Hell, the fact that he was her first lover in six years was meaningful enough, but given what he knew about her, that she’d been raped, that she had major trust issues when it came to men finding her attractive in spite of her strength, he knew the chances that she felt something for him besides just sexual attraction were high. What bothered him most, however, was how pleased he was by the thought. And how much he wanted her to ask for a commitment from him.
Thoughtfully, he rubbed his jaw, then got up and got ready for work. When he went out to the living room, he found a note on the kitchen counter. Gone shopping and have several appointments this morning but I’ll catch up with you afterward. Carrie.
Well, that was right to the point, wasn’t it? No smiley faces, hearts or even a “love” in the signature line to make him believe she viewed last night as anything more than having scratched a much-needed itch. So he’d play along for now. At least until he got things straightened out in his own head.
He called her cell phone.
“Hi, Jase. What’s up?” she asked softly.
Hearing her voice immediately had him recalling how she’d sounded when he’d been on top of her and making her beg, just as he’d promised she would.
Jase, please. Stop. Don’t stop. That feels so good. That feels amazing.
He closed his eyes and replayed the moment he’d finally relented and let her come down from her release, but only because he’d been about to explode himself and he’d wanted her to be looking at him when he did. Despite his heated thoughts, his voice was measured and calm when he spoke.
“Have you heard anything about the firebombing on your house?”
“SFPD picked up some suspects. They cl
aim they’ve never met Kevin Porter. But they’re verified as being with the same gang, so that’s not likely.”
“You said you need to go shopping? Anything I can get you?”
“Thanks, but I just need some clothes to get me through the next couple of weeks. I’ve contacted my insurance company, but I’m not going to worry about anything but the case for right now. I can’t.”
Message received, Jase thought. Loud and clear. “Speaking of the case,” he said. “Have you gotten any results on the legwork we’ve done so far?”
“As far as tracking down embalming supply purchases, nothing. As far as tracking down a privately operated kiln or unlawful access to a crematorium, also nothing,” Carrie said. “But I did discover that having a body cremated is no easy task. Although it would take only a few hours for the actual process to be completed, we’re talking something whose temperature can get as high as 1100 to 1800 degrees. That would require a massive amount of gas that would be trackable through the energy companies, but that’s turned up no clues, as well. In addition, having a body cremated by a licensed professional requires the submission of a variety of forms, some signed by various doctors confirming the victim’s cause of the death and providing authorization for the cremation.”
“So if it’s so hard to actually cremate a body, maybe he’s lying about that,” Jase said.
“I had the same thought. He might be lying about the embalming process, too. All we have are some photographs and The Embalmer’s word.” She hesitated and he knew immediately what she was thinking.
“You think the photos were doctored?” he asked. It was a definite possibility, but they couldn’t make any assumptions.
“For all we know, the ashes that had been found with the testable items of victim DNA weren’t actually the victim’s ashes. We can’t know for sure because it’s impossible to run DNA tests on ashes. Given all that, I think our best bet for now is focusing on the college connection between Cheryl Anderson and Kelly Sorenson.”
