Maggie’s chest tightened. She let the flame burn out on her cigarette, dangling the half-used stick between her chilly fingers. The breeze picked up and whirled her hair around her face as clouds slid across the sky, stealing what little warmth the sun provided.
Not much in Scott’s testimony that she hadn’t already heard or read before, except the possible drug use. Still, something about it wasn’t sitting right with her. What was bugging her, chewing away at the edges of her mind?
With a sigh, she turned to him and gave the biggest smile she could muster. “Thanks for filling me in.”
“Sorry I don’t recall more,” he said, a thread of relief in his voice that the conversation was veering away from such sad topics. “So, how’s your brother?”
They spent the next few minutes making small talk, catching up. Scott was still trying to impress her, but he must have gotten the idea that nothing was going to happen, because he stopped the heavy flirting.
Maggie finally dropped her cigarette butt in the ashtray and rubbed her icy fingers. “Whew, I’d better get rolling,” she said, glancing at the time on her burner phone. So much she still had to get done before meeting Andrew for dinner.
She only wished she had more information to share with him, but precious little had been gleaned from Scott. Another dead end.
Scott leaned away from the wall and stood in front of her. He peered down at her face, cheeks ruddy from the wind. “Well, take care, Maggie. If you wanna talk or hang out again, gimme a call. Maybe we can discuss something happier next time.” There was more behind his words that he wasn’t saying, but she gave him a polite smile and pretended to not notice.
“Thanks.” Offering him an awkward hug, she waved good-bye and made her way around the outside of the building to her car.
The heater blasted on cold when she slipped in and turned it on, but it warmed up fast, and she pressed her frozen digits to the warmth. Her stomach churned with sudden anxiety. She’d met failure at every turn so far. Her phone interviews with party attendees had gained her no new information. Joel was dead, and Scott couldn’t remember anything about that night because he’d been trashed. The diary carried no other leads, and DNA results threw in a confusing angle with possible dire conclusions she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.
When she went to shift her car out of park, she paused, throat tightening.
It hit her like a punch in the face what had bothered her about Scott’s recollection of the night. For a guy who had gotten so wasted, he’d remembered something specific about what Cassandra had worn—her pink shirt, notably.
From eight years ago.
Scott had had a girlfriend at the time, if Maggie remembered right, some chick he’d been dating since middle school. He hadn’t seemed interested in Cassandra at all—no, that had been all Joel. So why would Scott remember her clothing so well?
The question plagued Maggie the whole way home.
***
“Dinner was fabulous,” Maggie said, pushing the plate away. Andrew had been right—his eggplant Parmesan was out of this world, and she’d eaten way more than she should have.
He gave her a slow smile that had her skin tingling. “Glad to please,” he said with a wink. He’d been like this all evening since she’d arrived—his easygoing manner had helped her nervous stiffness seep away bit by bit.
Maggie took a fortifying gulp of her wine and gathered her plates, rinsing it off and leaving it in the stainless steel sink. “So, some things happened today,” she started, keeping her attention focused on the faucet and her voice even.
“Oh?” Nothing in his voice that let her know what he was thinking.
She relayed her thoughts on her phone possibly being tapped and her purchase of a burner phone. Then she filled him in on her meeting with Scott. “It all happened very last-minute and I stayed safe in the public eye,” she added, unable to hide the edge of pre-emptive defensiveness in her voice.
A hand brushed her lower back, and she nearly dropped her plate. “Hey, thanks for telling me,” Andrew said, spinning her around to face her. His eyes were serious, locked on her. “I appreciate your trust.”
The last remains of tension fully uncurled from her body, and she relaxed for the first time that evening. “I was a bit worried you’d be pissed,” she admitted.
He leaned closer, brushed his lips against hers. Her mouth tingled from the brief but potent contact. “I just want us to be honest.” His gaze skittered away for a second before he met her eyes again. This time his look was hooded. “And speaking of, there’s something I want to talk about with you.” He took her hand and guided her back to the table.
She drank the last bit of her wine, and he refilled her glass. “What’s up?”
“I was at the party. That night.”
Maggie blinked. “What? But I thought . . .” No one had told her he’d been there. He hadn’t been interviewed by the police—at least, not on record, and not that she’d seen in the paperwork. Why was she just now finding this out?
He cleared his throat and poured himself another glass. “I arrived early in the evening, like around eight or so. You and I had . . .” A low flush crawled over his cheeks. “Well, we’d just broken up, if you remember.”
“You’d dumped me,” she pointed out, suddenly awkward. She fidgeted in her seat. Even her brother and Scott hadn’t mentioned Andrew’s presence. Why? Had they forgotten?
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I was hoping to distract myself from it, so I went. For maybe an hour or two. But I was just sitting there by myself, crabby, and then I left. I didn’t stay very long, which is why I never brought it up to anyone.”
Huh. “So why mention it now?” she countered. The wine hit her system, and a soft glow suffused through her skin. This whole conversation was dredging up shit she didn’t want to deal with right now. All that vivid anxiety she’d felt about their breakup. While it wasn’t painful for her anymore, it sure as hell wasn’t a fond memory.
“Because I made a mistake.” He swallowed a big gulp of his wine and thunked the glass down. “I regretted the way everything went down.” He locked eyes with her. “I came to the party because a part of me had hoped you would show up. But when your sister showed up without you, shooting daggers in my direction, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. So I left right after. I wandered around Bay Village for a bit by myself. I even stopped in front of your house and considered coming in to talk to you.”
Her chest tightened. She’d been sobbing in her room, and he’d been outside her house that night.
He’d regretted what happened. Did that mean he wished he hadn’t broken up with her at all, or that he was sorry it had happened that way?
“Why didn’t you come talk to me?” she asked.
“I felt like the world’s biggest asshole.” He gave her a chagrined smile. “And somehow I knew that if I’d shown up on your doorstep, you would have decked me.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re probably right about that.” While she’d never been as emotionally volatile as her sister, she probably would have punched him square in the face for the callous way he’d dumped her. “Wait, so why are you telling me all of this now?”
Andrew cleared his throat, glancing down into his glass. Was he . . . nervous? A light flush of pleasure spread across her skin at the realization that he felt off-center. Because of her. He’d seemed so sure of himself before this.
Then he lifted his gaze, and his eyes were filled with a shocking hotness that pierced right through her, straight to her core. “I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about it—and part of me had hoped that someday, we’d get past it all, get back together. That I’d made a mistake but could fix it.”
He’d apologized before for dumping her like that, but hearing him speak like this stirred her deeply.
“When we broke up, I realized shortly afterward that it was a mistake. But because of all the stuff that happened with Cassandra, I didn’t get a chance to
change it. Then you left town, and I knew my chance was gone.” There was a vulnerability in his eyes that stole the breath from her lungs. “I missed the way you would laugh at my dumb jokes. How you held my hand when I’d drive us around. Your daily notes in my locker. You were good to me, and I was wrong to treat you like that.”
He paused, and she licked her lips, anticipation thrumming through her veins. The words were not only a balm on her injured heart, they were almost an aphrodisiac. She could see the undisguised craving in his eyes, felt it matched in her body.
She swallowed, shoving that sexual urge back. While she wanted to act on it, they still needed to talk a bit more. She had a couple of questions for him that had been niggling at the back of her mind. “Thank you. I appreciate that a lot. And I’m here for a little while now,” she added with an earnest smile. “So let’s spend the time the best we can.”
Let him read into that what he would. As for her, it was becoming harder each day to remember that at the end of it all, when the case was solved, she’d have to pack up and walk away from him again.
Chapter 17
“Can I ask you something?” she said to Andrew, sipping on her wine. The lush fullness of the pinot noir filled her mouth.
He nodded.
“What do you . . .” She cleared her throat, took another gulp of wine, suddenly struggling with her wording. “If you were to . . . get the inheritance money. What would you do with it?”
His lips pinched together.
“I’m just curious,” she continued on, fighting back the flush crawling up her throat, across her cheeks. “Since we’re partners for now, I wasn’t sure what your plans were.”
“What are your plans?” he countered.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. The move showed the lean flex of his biceps beneath his slim-fitting black dress shirt. His blue eyes studied her face. “I don’t need the money. Nor do I want it. I’d planned on funding some charities with it.”
“Really?” God, she wanted to believe him. But was he telling the truth? And did he mean all the money, or just a piece of it?
He nodded, his gaze skittering off above her head. “Our practice is doing well. I’m financially solid. I think your grandfather’s money could help a lot of people in need, if given the opportunity.” He dropped his eyes to focus on her.
She bit her lip, heart swelling. He didn’t appear insincere.
“Everything I could ever want I already have, right here in this town.”
With his attention squarely on her eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if that statement included her. Her chest tightened, and she couldn’t speak for a moment, the breath knocked out of her lungs.
Holy hell, Andrew was captivating.
And she was absolutely insane to start reading into what he was saying. Or not saying. Wasn’t she?
He leaned forward, head tilted. “You know, I just realized I never gave you my case notes. I have a copy of the police report too, along with the interviews. Hold on, I’ll go grab those for you.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, only a bit surprised at how breathy she sounded. “I already have it.”
He raised an eyebrow, a half grin on his face. “So your brother coughed up a copy to help?”
“No, my friend David did. He’s a cop at the station—maybe you remember him, since he went to our school. He . . .” She stalled off when she saw his eyes get hooded, his jaw tighten just a fraction.
“I see.” His words were slightly clipped. “Glad to see it’s all handled, then.”
Was he jealous? Over her?
A siren’s smile slid over her face as she felt a surge of feminine power. She reached a hand out to stroke his, purposely sliding the tip of her pointer finger along the apex between his first two fingers. Just to see how he’d react.
The pulse at the base of his throat fluttered just beneath his skin, and his lips parted, his eyes growing dark. Her own pulse reacted in kind, and her blood roared beneath her veins. The alcohol gave her a slow, steady throb, enhancing the flutter in her core.
He wanted her.
“I need you inside me right now,” she whispered, not caring that she sounded crazy-forward. Just wanting to shed all pretenses at the moment and feel him pounding into her. Making her come.
He suddenly gripped her hand and stood, pulling her out of her seat. His fingers tangled in her hair and he tugged her close, slanting his mouth over hers and stealing the last bits of oxygen in her lungs.
She gripped his shoulders and opened her mouth beneath his, drawing him in, their tongues tangling and dancing across each other. She slipped her tongue along the bottom of his teeth, along the curved walls of his lips.
He groaned into her open mouth. “I want you,” he said in almost a growl.
“God, yes,” she panted when he slid his tongue down to lick and suck the curve right below her jaw.
Andrew gripped her shirt right below her throat and ripped it open, buttons popping off and flying everywhere. She gave a shocked chuckle in reaction, the flutter in her sex an almost painful pulse. Her lower muscles clenched as she grew wet, her panties damp and clinging to her.
Then his mouth captured her nipple through the thin cotton of her bra, and all laughter fled as he suckled, his hands sliding down to cup her ass and press her against his rock-hard erection.
She ground on him, unable to hold back her panting. “Yes, right there,” she said as his tongue swirled the hard tip of her nipple.
He deftly undid her bra and tugged her shirt and bra off, which left her in her slim gray skirt and black high heels. She reached behind her to unzip her skirt but he stopped her hands, shoving the skirt up her hips. His eyes remained locked on hers the whole time. A light trembling danced across her skin and made her hands shake.
Anticipation.
Her breath came in heavy pants. She’d never had someone take control, take her in such a wild fashion. She ached for it, wanted to cry out for him to slam into her.
“What do you want?” he suddenly asked. His lips were swollen from their kissing, his eyes a piercing blue, flecked with tiny spots of gray.
“Up against the wall,” she managed to say.
A wicked smile curved his lips, sent shivers of expectancy through her. He picked her up by her ass and pressed her back against the cool wall. It felt decadent against her heated skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pinned in place, grinding her hot, swollen sex against him.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she replied, slipping her fingers into his hair and drawing his mouth close for another kiss.
He tasted of wine and desire. He drank deeply from her, fingers still cupping her ass, digging into their curves and spreading her wide apart for him. One hand then slipped the crotch of her panties aside, and a finger slicked through her labia, which sent a hot wave of lust along her skin. “You’re so wet already,” he breathed against her mouth. “I have to taste you.”
While she wanted him to lick her, right now she ached for him to lose his pants and thrust into her. “Please, I need you inside me,” she begged, uncaring about the weak plea in her voice as she dropped a hand down between them and caressed his stiff cock.
He let her slide down the wall, panting, skirt hiked around her waist, and dug into his wallet to pull out a condom. He took off his clothes in a rush and rolled the condom on. His body was firm, muscles gleaming in the soft glow of the candles.
Her fingers itched to touch him all over, but she made herself stand still and absorb the sight of him. His cock was ramrod straight and thick, bobbing slightly.
Then he looked her over. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered, reverence clearly painted in every word.
Her heart tightened in response, and she swallowed. Just live in this moment, she warned herself. Take what you can from it. But don’t let yourself get too vulnerable.
Andr
ew reached over and lifted her against the wall again. The backs of her heels pressed against his tight ass as he fitted himself snugly against her once more. The tip of his erection pulsed between her cleft, slick with her wetness, the scent of arousal and rich red wine hanging heavy between them.
Then he slowly pushed into her, one painstaking inch at a time. He groaned, threw his head back, which exposed the smooth length of his Adam’s apple. “You’re so tight,” he whispered. She licked his throat, tasting a few beads of salty sweat on his skin.
He filled her, stretched her. Her whole body came alive from their unity, every nerve ending tingling. She craved more of him and pressed down, silently urged him deeper. Sweat slicked their bodies, her breasts heavy and full, her nipples rubbing against the smoothness of his chest.
With one hand still cupping her buttocks, he slid the other up and between them, his fingers brushing against her clit. Then he pulled out and thrust back in, harder, harder.
The edges of an orgasm came bubbling to the surface. Her body was flush and warm and wet and she cried out from the expert strokes of his finger, his dick.
“Don’t stop,” she said; her voice broke as his wicked digits slipped and slid along her lower lips and clit. “Harder.”
The hand on her ass clenched tighter—she’d probably have marks later but she didn’t care right now. Andrew groaned, lips parted as he slammed into her hard. He kept working her clit, the nub growing tight and swollen and hard, the head of his cock stroking her inner walls.
A shudder swept over her, and she exploded in a sudden burst, letting herself cry out. In response, he moved both hands back to her ass and spread her wide open as he plowed into her over and over. Her orgasm crested and rippled through her body.
When the heat ebbed a bit, she wrapped her legs tighter around him and stared him in the eyes. “I want to watch as you come,” she breathed.
The Inheritance Part III Page 4
