He couldn’t control his fervor as he shifted and nudged his rigid flesh in her soft, moist flesh. She pulled him closer, eager to accommodate him. Their lips locked as he rode her waves, faster and faster until agonized pleasure sucked his trembling body into oblivion.
Not wanting to crush her, he shifted his weight until he was laying on the lounge. He tucked her on his chest. Her eyes were closed, and her damp hair lay across her cheek. He brushed it out of the way, then closed his eyes. He had some thinking to do.
It was a little while later when he kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, “I’m starving, sweetheart.”
“Not again,” she said with a smothered giggle. Then his stomach chose that moment to growl. “Oh, real food.”
He chuckled. “And I thought I was the one with a one track mind.”
“You have that effect on me.” She lifted her head, propped her chin on his chest and glanced toward the kitchen area. “Second drawer on the left side of the stove has menus of several nearby restaurants. Take your pick. I have them on speed dial on my phone.”
He ran his knuckles along her arm. “I take it you live on take-outs.”
“Someone has to keep the restaurants in business.”
He laughed, pushed the loose strands around her face out of the way and landed a gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re priceless.”
He eased from under her, got up and walked to the kitchen area. He could feel her gaze on him. “What are you in a mood for?”
“Anything.”
He found the menus and decided on an Italian restaurant. He was reading off a list of entrées when he turned his head and glanced toward Ashley. She was lying on her tummy, a pillow on her buttocks and her eyes on him. He winked at her, took both the menu and the phone, and walked back to the lounge.
“You’re very comfortable walking around,” she jutted a finger his way, “like that.”
He pulled the pillow off her. “So should you be, my modest artist.” He lifted the pillow away from her stretched hand and handed her the phone instead. “I’ll let you order for us while I nibble on my appetizer.”
She gave him a baffled look, but still took the phone and the menu. While she ordered, he settled between her legs on the lounge and studied her body. He’d bedded his share of women, but none ever held such fascination to him. He cupped her buttock cheek and squeezed.
She placed the phone down and threw him a glance over her shoulder. “Food’s on its way. You want to shower with me?”
“No, I want you to come with me, again. I’ve wanted to do this ever since I met you.” He leaned down and took a bite of her ass, hard enough to get a gasp out of her. Then he licked and soothed the spot he’d just bitten, enjoying the way her buttock muscles clenched. “Hmm, I love padding on a woman.” He cupped her hips. “Get on your knees, babe.”
She giggled. “Ron, give me a moment to catch my breath.”
“Save that for when you’re sleeping. I’ve barely begun.” He ran his hand along her inner thigh, felt her muscles tremble with anticipation. Her skin was smooth, her limbs supple. “Open up sweetheart and let me make you feel good.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“And you’re a match for me in every way.” She lifted her hip off the lounge so that her bare behind was sticking up in the air. He caressed it, studying her, loving the provocative and inviting pose. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes vulnerable and uncertain.
“You’re beautiful. Sexy.” His hand ran up her thigh to find her silken heat from behind, slipped a finger tenderly inside her. “You have no idea how I’ve fantasized about this, driving you crazy from behind.”
Another finger joined the first one as his other hand slid across her belly to caress her nipples. She vibrated and rocked against his hand, her back arching just as her muscles pulsated around his finger and a sob of helpless pleasure escaped her lips.
Ron knew he was pushing her hard, but this ravenous appetite for her body was beyond his comprehension. It was new, surprising and a little discerning. “I want more, Ashley.”
She nodded and dipped lower, inviting him to indulge himself. Her sweet acceptance made him harder than a rock. He’d wanted her surrender to him, to their passion, yet it was he who was seduced by her giving nature. The more she gave, the more he wanted from her. This woman he’d only known for a short time but was quickly becoming more important than the air he breathed. Watching her fall apart under his hands did something to his insides.
He smoothed on a condom, entered her slick opening slowly, savoring the feel of her. She swayed back to meet him, welcoming his invasion. He fought the sensations surging through his body and took his time, went for slow, rocking thrusts. “How does that feel?”
“Good.”
He wasn’t satisfied with her answer. “Tell me how you like it, baby.”
“Faster…harder,” she gasped.
He increased tempo. With each gliding thrust, a groan of pleasure escaped him. She was so snug, fitted him perfectly. Her hand sneaked around to grip his buttock cheek. His control snapped, his thrust becoming faster, harder and deeper. The sensual rhythm drove her over the edge, and he shouted hoarsely as the storm of sensations catapulted him into nothingness.
Ashley flopped on the lounge and he followed, shifting his weight off her and rolling to the side.
***
“Food’s here,” Ashley called out when the doorbell rang an hour later. She was already dressed. Ron, on the other hand, had stayed behind in the shower to catch his breath.
Ron stepped out of her bathroom, a towel around his waist. “You’re a wicked woman, Ashley Fitzgerald.”
“You loved every moment of it.” So had she. It had been fun to watch him lose control, tear down his barriers and have him helpless and quivering in her arms, just like he did to her every time they made love. “I’ll get the food.” She ran down the stairs, grabbed her handbag and hurried to the door.
If she had used the peephole before opening the door, she might have been prepared. As it was, she yanked the door open, saw the face of the delivery boy and froze. Was she becoming paranoid after what happened earlier, and were men with beards starting to look alike?
“Ms. Ashley Fitzgerald?” the bearded deliveryman asked, smiling.
Despite the bags with La Trattoria logo, the man looked too old to be a food delivery boy. He had a tan that owed much to the sun and not natural pigmentation. His hair was curly, a shade of brown that was hard to describe, his eyes pale blue and his features not particularly striking. He had a face one could see in a crowd and never remember.
“Ma’am? Did you order food from La Trattoria?” he asked.
“Where’s Nguyen?” Ashley blurted at the same time, a little uneasy by the intent way he stared at her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The young man who usually delivers my food…Nguyen, where’s he?”
“Oh. He was out when your order came in. You are Ms. Ashley Fitzgerald, right?”
“That’s right.” She pulled out her wallet, looked up and caught him peering into her house. She shifted and blocked his gaze. “Ron, the food’s here,” she yelled over her shoulder, just in case the man thought she was home alone. She gave him a beatific smile. “How much do I owe you?”
“Fifty-two dollars and sixty cents.”
“You guys must be busy tonight.” She wrote a check that included the tip. “The delivery time from your restaurant is usually thirty minutes.”
The man shrugged, his eyes darting toward the elevator as though he was in a hurry to leave. “It’s very crowded. There’s a conference going on around here, and the place has been packed these past few nights. Thank you,” he added when she gave him the check, then he turned and walked away.
On an impulse Ashley asked, “What’s your name?” When he paused to glance at her with a frown, she added, “I like to use people’s names when I address them.”
“Lester Dunn.” A str
ange look she couldn’t identify crossed his face, but he ducked his head before she could decipher it. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
“Nice to meet you, Lester. See you next time.”
The man hurried away, not bothering to look back. Ashley stared after him, unease knitting her insides. If only she’d seen the facial features of the biker who’d followed her home earlier. Putting a face to evil was better than staying in the dark. And the deliveryman was a little too skittish and nosey for her liking.
She was closing the door when a shirtless Ron appeared beside her. “There was something really weird about that deliveryman.”
“In what way?” Ron took the bags of food from her hands and followed her to the kitchen
“I caught him peering inside my loft, then as soon as I mentioned your name, he couldn’t wait to hightail out of here.” She lifted the phone and speed-dialed the restaurant’s number. “Call me paranoid, but I’ve got to confirm he’s really an employee of La Trattoria. Lester had a full beard like the biker and was a little too old to be a deliver…what is it?” Ron had frozen halfway through her explanation.
“Lester? Did you say Lester?”
“Yes. Lester Dunn.” She pressed the off button, terminating the call without speaking. “What? Who’s he?”
His expression tight, he studied her. “He didn’t do or say anything threatening to you, did he?”
Ron’s reaction was beginning to scare her. “Like I said, I caught him peering inside my house. What’s going on, Ron? Who’s Lester Dunn?”
“A name on a list.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched buttons, his jaw set. “Remember the letters on my windscreen; Lester Dunn was on the second list.” His attention shifted to the person on the other side of the line. “Kenny, I found Lester Dunn. Yes. He pretended to be a delivery boy from a nearby restaurant. Can you believe that crap? He was so damn cocky he actually gave Ashley his real name.” He listened for a few seconds, then said, “How soon as can you get here? You bet I want a clean sweep of the place. No, we didn’t order online. Used the phone. Okay, see you.” He terminated the call. “I need to have a talk with the guard downstairs.”
She blocked his path. “Not so fast. What was that about?”
“Kenny’s firm deals with technical surveillance counter measures, debugging places. Whatever Dunn planted in here, a full TSCM sweep will find it.”
Surely, she must have misunderstood him. “Debugging? As in removing listening devices? Why would you think—?”
“It’s the only way Dunn would have known about our order,” he interrupted impatiently. “He had to be listening.”
Ashley opened her mouth to protest, but the words got lost in her throat. The thought that someone had snuck inside her home left her reeling with shock. “How? The guards don’t let anyone waltz up here without permission.”
“Oh yeah? Dunn just delivered our food. The guard didn’t stop or question him.” His tone was hard, his expression furious.
“Quit yelling at me, Ron.”
“Who’s to say he hadn’t delivered something else before to someone else in the building and slipped in here?” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken
“If he did, I’m not the one who let him in. Okay? And enough with that tone.”
“I’m not yelling.” He lowered his tone but still sounded annoyed. “You approved food deliveries by what’s-his-name when no one should come upstairs without your authorization.”
“Oh yeah? You did.”
“That’s different.”
“Yeah sure. Different rules for you. Why am I not surprised?” She saw the worry etched on his face and checked the bitch inside her. Yes, things were spiraling out of control, but she shouldn’t take out her frustrations on Ron. “Okay, Ron. I understand where you’re coming from with this. No one comes upstairs without my say so from now on.”
He nodded. “Good. I’m going to talk to the guards downstairs. I’ll be back shortly.”
As he walked away, he brought his cell phone to his ear and say, “Mom, we need to talk.”
Ashley locked the door behind him, checked all her windows to make sure they were secure and put her alarm system to “at home” mode. Then she started to search for listening devices. To be honest, she had no idea what she was looking for. Still she got a screwdriver and opened her phones, checked behind her T.V., every nook and cranny someone could hide something in. There was nothing.
Had that creep really slipped inside her loft and bugged it? The idea gave her the willies. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable, invaded. Had he listened to the conversations she’d had around the house and over the phone in the last several weeks? Listened to their lovemaking earlier? No, she was jumping ahead of herself. There was probably nothing, just Ron being overly cautious. But what if he wasn’t?
She shifted gears and starting thinking about someone other than herself, the people who were at Carlyle House the night of the fire. With Kirkland in the hospital and Hogan missing, that left Ron’s mother. Ron’s mother could be in danger and must be warned. She hoped Ron talked to her and…oh, Lord, she was forgetting Nguyen. If Dunn was really that no-good scumbag biker, the deliveryman might be lying somewhere injured and needing help.
Ashley fished out her cell phone from her bag and dialed the restaurant.
“Your friend called us a few minutes ago, Ms. Fitzgerald,” the manager told her. “Mr. Ron Noble. We told him Nguyen left with your order almost an hour ago.”
That was bad. “Have you called the police?”
“Yes. I know they’ll want to talk to you, too. Your friend said you’ll both be home.”
“Yes, we will.” Nguyen had been delivering food in her area for almost six months now and the two of them often chatted whenever he dropped off her order. She’d like to think they had some kind of a relationship. “I hope Nguyen is okay.”
“So do we,” the woman said, then hung up.
Ashley put the phone down, crossed her arms and hugged herself, a chill skidding under her skin. She wished she could call Eddie, again, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. It had been okay to call him when she needed validation, but a full-fledged investigation must be handled by the local precinct. Why didn’t the thought fill her with comfort?
CHAPTER 12
Ashley sat on a counter stool, her fingers rapping a tune on the granite counter, a sketching book opened a few inches away. For once, she couldn’t use her art to rid herself of nerve-racking tension. The waiting was getting to her.
The officer who interrogated her had been very courteous. Lieutenant Sanchez listened, asked questions when appropriate and even put up with Ron’s overbearing attitude. Ron meant well, she knew that, and she understood where he was coming from. If the police had taken him seriously when he first approached them with the letters and reopened the investigation into the Carlyle House fire, Dunn and whomever he worked for wouldn’t be running around hurting people.
By the time Sanchez left her loft, the officer was more than willing to cooperate with them. Ashley wasn’t surprised to receive a call later about Nguyen. They found the delivery boy bruised and battered, and left in the trunk of his car, barely alive. Unfortunately, Sanchez was on her way back to discuss something she refused to divulge over the phone. Ashley had no idea what that was about, which only added to her frustration. Ron volunteered to go downstairs to waylay the officer and keep her out of the way until his friend Kenny Lambert was done debugging her place.
Ashley turned her head so she could openly study the private detective as he moved about the room, checking under and around one object after another. What had he called it? A visual and physical search. He’d already completed an electronic one—radio frequency, wire and conductor searches.
The way Ron talked about Kenny Lambert, she’d expected the man to be an easy-going, average man with easily forgotten features—your typical P.I. But everything about Kenny was striking—piercing green eyes, hard, chiseled face and body. His
slanted eyes and black hair hinted at Asiatic heritage, and the way he glided when he walked, one didn’t hear him move until he was right beside you. In all-black attire, he reminded her of a panther—great physical form, hard, edgy, deadly.
As though he was aware of her scrutiny, he glanced her way and smiled. The smile softened the hard planes of his face and dimples winked at her from his cheeks.
“Almost done,” he said and then walked to the bookshelves at the corner of the main floor of her loft.
Too worked up to be appeased by his composed expression and reassuring smile, she kept tabs on him. There was no place in her home he hadn’t checked, including her bedroom drawers and closets. Her face had heated with embarrassment. Heck, her neck was warming up just thinking about it.
She jumped up and skirted the kitchen counter, her hand reaching for the coffee pot. She’d been drowning in the dark brew in the last couple of hours. Too bad it didn’t pack its usual punch, but it was all she’d promised to touch until she talked with Officer Sanchez.
Ashley was busy sipping the drink and trying hard not to think of her present predicament when Kenny appeared by her side. The smile she gave him was uncertain. “Done?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He placed the smaller suitcase on the counter and left the larger one n the floor by his feet.
“Want some coffee?” He’d declined the offer when he first arrived.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” he said with a solemn expression. “I take it black.”
Pouring him the drink gave her something to do while she mentally steeled herself against the answers he had for her. She knew he found a few bugs, some right under where she looked earlier. Ashley placed the mug in front of him before speaking. “How many did you find?”
He hesitated and glanced at the door. Ashley rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm and took a deep breath. With the Dunn situation, her uncle in ICU and Officer Sanchez’s request to have a chat with her, she was in no mood to be strung along by anyone.
Slow Burn Page 17
